THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


w-  ■ 

■ 

1*^- 

■  • 

>•<* 

fl*. 


I  •' 


for 


■ 

&>  r- 

u    V  * 

*.',V     l.*'* 

&fc  ■ 

|5" 


< 


I 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 


BERTHA  THE  BEAUTY: 


STORY  OF  THE  SOUTHERN  REVOLUTION. 


BY 
SARAH  J..C.  WHITTLESEYr, 

HEART-DROPS  FROM  MEMORY'S  URN;"    "THE  STRANGER'S  STRATAGEM; 
"HERBERT  HAMILTON  :    OR,  THE  BAS  BLEU,"    ETC. 


It  was  a  very  proper  answer  to  him  who  asked,  why  any  man  should  be 
dolightt-d  with  Beauty?  that  it  was  a  question  that  none  but  a  blind  man 
could  a>k;  since  any  beautiful  object  doth  so  much  attract  the  sight  of  all 
men,  that  it  is  in  no  man's  power  not  to  be  pleased  with  it. — Clarendon. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

CLAXTON,  EEMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER, 

Nos.  819  &  821  Market  Street. 
1872. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

#ARAH  J.  C.  WHITTLESEY, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  J.  PAGAN  &  SON,  PHILADELPHIA. 


RESPECTFULLY  AND  AFFECTIONATELY 


^tiiatti 


To  D.  W.  BAGLEY,  Esq., 

OF  WILMINGTON,  NORTH  CAROLINA, 


|he  Juthor. 


Alexandria,  Virginia, 
August  16,  1871. 


603314 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Bertha's  Father 13 

CHAPTER   II. 
Bertha's  Friends 16 

CHAPTER  III. 
Jealous.  — "Uncle  Ned" 20 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Minnie's  Confession.  —  The  Prisoner     ....    23 

CHAPTER  V. 

Mr.  Peterroy  Simpkins  of  Petunia  Park      .  .27 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Breakfast-Table  Discussion 30 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Bug  Oracle 34 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Mr.  Simpkins  visits  Miss  Redmond 37 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Peter  gets  Sacked 42 

CHAPTER  X. 

Oak  Grove. —  "The  Academy" 45 

vii 


Vlll  CONTEXTS. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

PArtE 

Bertha's  Trials  at  "  the  Academy  "     .        .        .        .52 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Bertha's  Descriptive  Powers  are  Exercised     .        .      56 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Bertha's  Bravery 62 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Mr.  Redmond  startles  Edalia 65 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Bertha  takes  French  Leave  of  the  Seminary  .        .      70 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Providence  smiles  on  our  Heroine       ....      76 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Walter  Eldon's  Advent.  —  Edalia's  Dream       .        .      83 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Minnie's  Bridal.  —She  "  Soweth  the  Wind  "     .        .91 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Deserted  Homestead.  —Miss  Agnes  Bentley. — 

Minnie  "  Reaps  the  Whirlwind  "...      95 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Bertha's  Letter 107 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Wild  Storm.  —  Edalia  is  Puzzled         .        .        .113 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Horace  Stanhope.  — Green-Eyes 116 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
A  Temperance  Lecture. —  Jones's  Store     .        .        .124 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

PAGE 

Little  Charlie.  —  "  No  Hope  " 133 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Horace  Stanhope's  Reputation  among  his  Relatives    136 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Edalia  betrays  her  Secret  Sorrow.  —  Walter  El- 
don's  Confession 142 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
Bertha  retrospects  the  Past 147 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
Bertha's  Friends  and  Foes 157 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Edalia  Surprises  Mr.  Redmond.  —  Night -Scene  at 

Jones's  Store 1G4 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Alonzo  Stanhope's  Visit  to  Berkshire       .        .        .    169 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"  The  Dove  has  returned  to  the  Ark  "...    175 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"A  Bad  Penny  sure  to  come  back."— Bitter  Mo- 
ments.—  Bertha  sees  "  a  Face  "  ....    179 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

The  Hidden  Heart.  —  Edalia  is  agonized  .        .        .    188 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  "  Face  "  reproaches  Bertha.  —  Green-Eyes  de- 
feated. —  Claude  Belmont 193 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

PAGE 

Mr.  Redmond  "dives  to  the  Bottom."  — The  Secret 

Story  Revealed 201 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Horace   Stanhope   risks  his  Liberty  to  test  his 

Power.  —  Envy  rejoices  at  Calamity        .        .    207 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Horace  Stanhope's  Antecedents. — Alonzo's  Opinion 

of  Bertha 214 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

The  Wedding-Cake.  —  "  Mars  Wallie's  Good  Luck  "    219 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
Bertha  the  Beauty  in  Berkshire,  Massachusetts    .    224 

CHAPTER  XL. 
Bertha's  Life  in  Berkshire 232 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

Horace  Stanhope's  Third  Failure. — .Bertha  Re- 
solves and  Executes 240 

CHAPTER  XLII. 
Bertha  abandons  a  Jealous  Tyrant    ....    245 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Mr.  Redmond  suspects  Bertha's  Secret       .        .        .    254 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Bertha's  Nerves  receive  a  Sudden  Shock  .        .        .    259 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

a  Old  Folks  at  Home."  —  Bertha's  Talents  Discussed    265 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

PAGE 

Horace  Stanhope's  Divorce.  —  Claude  "tries  her 

Faith" 271 

CHAPTER  XLVIL 

A  Startling  Letter.  —  Bertha's  Heart -Secret  is 

Exposed 279 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Conscientious  Scruples.  —  Claude    Belmont's  Con- 
fession       285 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

"The  War  for  the  Union."  —  Bertha  fears  for 

Claude 292 

CHAPTER  L. 

After  the  Battle.  —  Under-ground  Mail  .        .        .    295 

CHAPTER  LI. 

Old  Broadbrim  enters  the  Lines  .        .        .        .301 

CHAPTER  LIT. 

Joy  and  Sorrow.  —  Bertha  finds  Work  to  do    .        .    303 

CHAPTER  LIII. 
The  Unexpected  Meeting.  —  The  Enamored  Chap- 
lain   314 

CHAPTER  LIV. 

Horace  Stanhope  Confesses  to  Bertha       .       .        .    321 

CHAPTER  LV. 

Stanhope's  Meeting  with  Percy  Ormund    .        .        .328 

CHAPTER  LVI. 

Old  Friends  and  War-Times  in  Bertha's   Early 

Home 336 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  LVII. 

PAGE 

The  Last  of  Earth.  —  Bertha's  Presentiment  .        .    346 

CHAPTER  LVIII. 

Shoulder-Straps  and  Private  Caps.  —  Col.  Ormund 

the  Brave .        .    354 

CHAPTER  LIX. 

Last  Scene  in  Berkshire,  Massachusetts    .        .        .    364 

CHAPTER  LX. 

A  Speedy  Reaction.  —  The  Lost  is  Found    .        .        .    369 

CHAPTER  LXI. 
Mr.  Redmond  "lets  the  Cat  out."  —  Home,  Sweet 

Home,  there  's  no  Place  like  Home   .        .        .    375 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY, 


CHAPTER  I. 


IT  was  a  low  brown  house,  with  a  long  piazza  hung  with 
golden  jessamines  flooding  the  blue  air  with  fragrance 
in  early  spring;  and  roses,  and  violets,  and  asters,  and 
chrysanthemums  blooming  about  it  all  the  year  round,  ex- 
cepting the  bleak,  blossom-blighting  months  of  winter. 

There  were  crimson  -  fringed  maples,  and  vine  -  covered 
poplars,  and  broad-leaved  sycamores,  and  acorn-filled  oaks, 
towering  above  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza ; 
crowning  it  with  shadows  of  purple,  and  pouring  cool  breezes 
into  the  low  wide  windows,  through  all  the  long  sultry 
days  of  faint-hearted  summer ;  and  dropping  their  golden 
and  crimson  leaves  and  rattling  acorns  on  the  moss-covered 
shingles,  in  the  sober  and  sweetly  pensive  days  of  autumn. 

Set  down  in  a  wide  green  yard,  with  a  wider  and  greener 
garden  behind  it,  was  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long 
piazza,  with  the  deep  breezy  woodlands  belting  it  like  an 
emerald  ring  on  a  background  of  blue. 

Hard  by  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza  was 

the  little  brown  church,  with  its  plain  pine  benches  and 

old-fashioned  pulpit,  all  guiltless  of  paint  and  odorous  of 

new  timber;  with  small  wooden  boxes  filled  with  swamp 

2  13 


14  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

sand,  dotting  the  clean  floor  of  the  country  sanctuary,  for 
the  accommodation  of  tobacco-chewers  and  benefit  of  the 
sexton  —  which  functionary  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Williams, 
who  was  mainly  instrumental  in  the  erection  of  the  little 
brown  church,  and  from  whom,  in  consequence,  it  derived 
its  distinguishing  title — Williams's  Chapel. 

And  here  was  our  heroine  christened — little  golden- 
haired,  waxen -faced,  brown-eyed  Bertha  Belmont.  Like 
most  heroines,  Bertha  was  a  beauty,  and  poor ;  but  unlike 
them,  in  general,  she  was  not  an  orphan.  Her  father  was 
a  Connecticut  Yankee,  who  had  wandered  away  from  his 
native  State  (a  genuine  Yankee  characteristic)  with  a  fair 
young  bride,  to  North  Carolina,  and  married  the  mother  of 
our  heroine,  after  the  death  of  his  first  wife.  Two  sons  were 
born  of  the  first  union ;  a  girl  and  boy  of  the  second. 

Mr.  Belmont  bore  the  reputation  of  being  "easy  as  an 
old  shoe ;  "  his  bump  of  self-esteem  was  painfully  low.  He 
had  no  ambition  beyond  threadbare  breeches  and  a  well- 
filled  pipe.  Six  years  after  the  birth  of  his  daughter,  Mr. 
Belmont  left  the  pleasant  town  of  Williamsville,  on  the 
river  Roanoke,  where  she  first  opened  her  brown  eyes  to  the 
sunshine  and  blue  skies,  and  settled  down  in  the  low  brown 
house  with  the  long  piazza,  twenty-one  miles  from  the  place 
of  her  birth,  in  the  dark  wild  woods. 

Born  and  reared  in  town,  admired  by  the  beaux,  and 
envied  by  the  belles,  in  the  highest  circles  of  society,  Mrs. 
Belmont  half  died  of  ennui,  eleven  mortal  years,  in  the 
dark,  lonely  woods  of  her  native  Carolina. 

Mr.  Belmont's  abolition  sentiments  militated  against  his 
interest  in  the  Southland.  They  said  he  sought  to  apply 
the  match  of  Yankee  officiousness  to  the  magazine  of  their 
Southern  institution  ;  but  proof  was  wanting  to  convict  him 
of  the  crime,  and  he  lived  unmolested,  an  object  of  suspicion. 

Mr.  Belmont  would  have  been  wholly  neglected  by  his 
neighbors,  but   for  his   college  education    acquired  at  old 


15 

Yale,  which  often  rendered  him  necessary  to  those  far  his 
superior  in  wealth.  If  there  was  a  lawsuit  pending,  Mr. 
Belmont's  advice  must  be  had ;  if  there  was  a  difficulty 
among  the  rustics,  Mr.  Belmont  must  arbitrate  it ;  if  there 
was  a  shower  of  electricity  resembling  falling  stars,  Mr. 
Belmont  must  be  aroused  at  midnight  to  pacify  the  panic- 
stricken  ;  if  the  sun  was  unusually  eclipsed,  Mr.  Belmont 
must  account  for  the  phenomenon  on  philosophical  prin- 
ciples. And  so  Mr.  Belmont  was  a  man  of  importance 
among  the  aristocracy  and  democracy,  for  miles  around, 
notwithstanding  his  anti-slavery  principles,  and  the  suspi- 
cion with  which  he  was  regarded. 

Whether  Mr.  Belmont's  abolition  sentiments  were  ever 
expressed  to  the  prejudice  of  masters  or  not,  they  certainly 
were  detrimental  to  his  own  pecuniary  circumstances  ;  for 
his  great  sympathy  for  those  in  bondage  kept  his  purse  in 
the  last  stage  of  consumption — lean  as  Pharaoh's  kine;  and 
the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza  remained  in  an 
unfinished  state  eleven  long,  poverty-pinched  years.  The 
wralls  were  unplastered,  and  the  wainscot  unpainted;  and 
the  means  requisite  to  complete  the  work  went  from  Mr. 
Belmont's  benevolent  pocket  to  fill  black  mouths  with 
tobacco  and  rum,  supposed  to  be  for  a  more  charitable  pur- 
pose. Mr.  Belmont  could  not  say  No  !  to  a  twig  from  an 
Ethiopian  tree  ;  and  his  credulity  was  astonishing. 

His  farm  of  thirty  acres  was  poorly  cultivated,  for  he 
was  too  tender  of  Africa  to  enforce  obedience  to  his  com- 
mands ;  while  his  children  and  pupils  were  well  thrashed 
for  any  dereliction  in  duty.  His  goods  were  sold  on  trust 
to  ebony  customers,  who  never  returned  an  equivalent,  and 
who  stole  from  him  at  night  what  they  had  not  purchased 
"on  tick"  in  the  day.  But  Mr.  Belmont  pitied  the  un- 
fortunate race,  and  entered  no  complaint,  but  suffered 
them  to  go  scot-free.  Mr.  Belmont  failed  many  times, 
as  a  merchant,  solely  through  sympathy  for  the  ignorant 


16  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

and  oppressed  sons  of  Ham ;  while  the  inmates  of  the  low 
brown  house  with  the  long  piazza  walked  the  ways  of 
humble  life,  through  lack  of  the  scattered  and  stolen  means 
that  would  have  elevated  them  to  their  rightful  position  in 
refined  Southern  society. 

But  Mr.  Belmont  was  a  man  of  sterling  integrity  and 
inflexible  probity,  and  his  greatest  weakness  was  that  which 
kept  him  poor,  and  his  family  in  the  vale  of  obscurity. 
Mr.  Belmont  was  not  adapted,  mentally,  to  the  latitude  in 
which  he  had  located ;  and  his  family  were  the  greatest 
sufferers,  through  his  mistake  in  emigrating  from  free  soil, 
overalls,  and  hay-ricks.  He  was  his  children's  teacher;  and 
not  till  she  had  attained  the  age  of  fourteen  did  Bertha 
receive  instruction  from  another. 

Our  heroine  had  no  childhood.  She  was  a  quiet,  solemn, 
isolated  thing  from  earliest  youth,  who  read  stolen  romances 
at  midnight  when  her  parents  were  asleep,  and  dreamed,  in 
the  purple,  breezy  woods,  at  noonday  and  twilight,  of  the 
great  gay  world  afar  off,  of  which  she  had  read.  Bertha 
Belmont  was  a  timid,  taciturn,  and  visionary  child. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BERTHA'S   FRIENDS. 


HA,  ha!  —  he,  he!" 
"  What's  the  matter,  Min  ?  " 
"  Ha,  ha !  —  he,  he !  —  Mr.  Belmont 's  bought  a  nigger ! " 
"  I  don't  believe  it  !  " 
"  True  as  you  're  alive !  —  I  saw  it  done  !  " 
"Well,  that  shows!     Thought  it  was   against  his  prin- 
ciples." 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  17 

"  So  't  is  ;  he  did  it  to  oblige  the  darky.  You  know  Mr. 
"Wallace  is  about  to  move  to  Tennessee,  to  join  his  wife's 
father,  and  the  woman  don't  want  to  go  ;  so,  to  accommo- 
date her,  Mr.  Belmont  has  become  her  purchaser,  through 
his  wife.  He  handed  the  money  over  to  madam,  and 
shakes  his  skirts  clean  of  the  great  sin  of  slavery  —  ha, 
ha!  — he,  he!" 

"  He  'd  better  have  kept  the  money  to  finish  his  house." 

"  So,  so ;  but  then  the  poor  thing  would  have  to  go  to 
Tennessee  against  her  will." 

"  'T  would  n't  hurt  her  much,  for  she  has  n't  a  relative 
in  all  this  section,  and  she 's  rather  old  to  have  formed  a 
romantic  attachment." 

"Ha,  ha!  —  he,  he!  —  makes  no  difference  —  she  don't 
want  to  go,  and  that 's  enough  for  Mr.  Belmont  —  he, 
he ! " 

"  Hush,  you  rattlebox  !  Well,  I  hope  his  poor  wife  won't 
have  to  burn  her  brown  eyes  out  over  the  kitchen  fire  any 
longer.  It 's  a  shame  how  that  woman  does  slave  from 
morning  till  night,  when  her  husband's  education  is  suffi- 
cient to  keep  them  up  in  the  world  as  high  as  the  wealthiest, 
if  he  had  the  ambition  and  self-respect  of  a  Southerner. 
Mrs.  Belmont  was  the  envy  and  admiration  of  the  circle  in 
which  she  moved,  before  her  marriage,  they  say ;  not  rich, 
but  the  adopted  daughter  of  an  aristocrat,  and  might  have 
done  better  than  become  a  household  and  kitchen  drudge. 
Well,  it  all  comes  of  marrying  a  Yankee." 

"  Yes ;  is  n't  it  astonishing  what  a  difference  there  is 
.  between  the  people  of  the  two  sections  ?  No  more  alike 
than  a  French  dancing-master  and  a  country  bumpkin ;  or 
a  mulatto  housemaid  and  a  coal-black  ploughboy !  Pity, 
they  don't  stay  where  they  can  be  appreciated,  and  marry 
among  their  own  people.  Mr.  Belmont  is  a  good  man,  as 
the  world  goes,  and  highly  educated  ;  but  his  poor  family  is 
2*  B 


18  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

dreadfully  crushed  down  by  his  grovelling  nature.  Poor 
Bertha  is  n't  a  bit  like  him  there.  She  's  high-minded  and 
ambitious,  as  he  is  low  and  draggling,  and  feels  her  situation 
keenly.  I  've  seen  her  cry  over  the  unplastered  walls  and 
tumble-down  palings." 

"Yes;  but  it's  an  old  saying,  and  I  think  a  true  one, 
that  '  strange  faces  make  fools  fond.'  " 

"  "Well,  that  is  n't  saying  much  for  Mrs.  Belmont." 
"  Quite  as  much  as  she  'd  say  of  herself,  I  reckon." 
"  Wonder,  if  she  'd  try  it  again,  if  she  were  free  now." 
"  Hm  !  I  should  think  her  fire-faded  eyes  and  burned  fin- 
gers would  be  a  caution  to  her  in  future.   What  small  hands 
she  has!  —  a  genuine  Southern  hand  —  never  was  meant  to 
swing  pots  and  kettles.     You  may  tell  a  Northerner  by  the 
huge  size  of  his  hands  and  feet  —  " 

"And  stiff  joints !  "  interrupted  Minnie,  with  a  shrug  of 
her  fair  young  shoulders. 

"There  's  Jim  Hanson  works  in  the  field  like  one  of  his 
own  slaves  during  the  week,  and  on  Saturday  mounts  his 
glossy  steed  and  goes  dashing  out  to  Log  Chapel,  in  broad- 
cloth, kid-gloves,  and  Southern  airs ;  while  Mr.  Belmont,  if 
he  favors  his  family  at  all,  puts  them  into  an  antediluvian 
gig  and  trudges  beside  it,  in  well-worn  satinet,  and  with  big, 
bare  hands  —  augh  !  And  just  to  think  how  genteelly  they 
might  live,  with  his  education  and  income,  if  he  had  the 
ambition  to  rise  above  wash-tubs  and  pea-planting ! " 
"  Very  true.  And  so  he  has  really  purchased  a  slave?  " 
"Really,  Ed.  I  was  at  Mr.  Wallace's  when  the  bargain 
was  made.     Won't  it  astonish  the  natives  ?  " 

"With  his  principles,  I  should  think  he  would  have 
given  her  free  papers." 

"  Hm  !  that 's  another  thing.  Dr.  Clark  says  he  always 
found  it  to  be  an  easy  matter  to  bury  other  people's  chil- 
dren.     Who   ever   bought   negroes  for   the  philanthropic 


19 

purpose  of  setting  them  free?  Catch  vie  marrying  a 
Yankee ! " 

"  Or  me,  Min.  Poor  Bertha !  her  chance  for  it  is  pain- 
fully fair.  Her  father's  house  is  the  peddler's  home,  you 
know,  and  I  should  n't  wonder  if —  " 

"  I  know.  She  's  hardly  fourteen,  and  has  n't  finished  her 
education ;  but  that  peddler  Harwood  is  after  her,  and  if  her 
father  commands  it,  she'll  marry  him,  love  or  no  love,  for 
his  word  is  law  under  his  own  roof;  and  Mr.  Belmont  has  a 
strong  partiality  for  his  own  people.  Poor  Bert !  I  mean 
to  warn  her  against  marrying  a  Yankee,  with  her  Southern 
taste  and  temperament  —  I  will!  " 

This  was  Mr.  Belmont's  reputation  among  his  Southern 
neighbors.  They  abused  and  ridiculed  him  for  his  low  liv- 
ing, and  stood  aloof  from  his  family  because  of  its  Yankee 
head.  Mr.  Belmont  thought  but  little  of  their  neglect  and 
reserve,  and  cared  less ;  forgetting,  in  his  selfishness,  that 
his  wife  and  daughter  were  social  beings,  and  suffered  from 
his  indifference.  , 

Bertha  had  but  few  friends  and  associates.  At  school 
she  was  so  envied  by  the  girls,  because  of  the  boys'  ad- 
miration of  her  beauty,  that  they  drew  back  from  the 
lonely  child,  and  whispered,  malevolently,  of  her  Yankee 
origin. 

Edalia  Redmond  and  Minnie  Montrose  were  her  fastest 
and  best-loved  friends.  Prejudiced  against  Yankees,  they 
pitied  the  situation  of  our  heroine ;  and  the  two  girls  rarely 
met  but  Mr.  Belmont  came  in  for  a  good  share  of  vitupera- 
tion and  abuse  from  their  voluble  little  tongues. 

They  disliked  him  for  his  slovenly  style  of  living  and 
well-known  principles,  as  much  as  they  loved  Bertha  for 
her  Southern  spirit  and  affectionate  disposition  ;  and  though 
they  were  his  pupils  for  several  years,  Mr.  Belmont  did 
not  succeed  in  winning  the  regard  of  the  aristocratic  little 


20  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

friends  of  his  daughter.  Bertha  would  have  been  lonely 
indeed,  but  for  these  two  girls.  They  were  a  pretty  trio. 
Minnie  was  motherless,  and  Edalia  was  the  adopted  child 
of  a  bachelor  uncle — both  her  parents  were  in  their  graves. 
Their  homes  were  near,  and  daily  intercourse  was  the  de- 
light of  these  three  loving  little  creatures,  as  the  years  rolled 
them  silently  up  to  womanhood. 


CHAPTER  III. 


171  DIE,  Edie !  come  to  trysting-tree ! "  and  the  gay  girl 
J  clasped  Edalia's  hand  and  pulled  her  through  the  lit- 
tle cottage-gate,  down  to  the  narrow  footpath  that  sloped 
to  the  clear,  cool  spring,  bubbling  and  sparkling  beneath 
the  old  maple. 

It  was  a  sweet  May  morning.  The  skies,  as  they  glanced 
now  and  then  through  a  dense  foliage  of  oak-leaves  and  in- 
terlaced limbs,  matted  and  dripping  with  early  dew,  looked 
blue  and  smiling  as  the  sweet  spring  violets  that  peeped  up 
from  velvety  ridges  of  rich  moss  about  the  old  oak-roots, 
and  nestled  in  groups,  half  hid,  among  green  grass  that 
edged  the  wayside. 

She  was  a  bright,  wild,  free  thing  —  Minnie  Montrose ; 
and  her  young  heart  was  everlastingly  running  over  with 
music  and  mirth  through  her  beautiful  blue  eyes  and  very 
rosebud  of  a  mouth. 

Minnie  lived  just  over  the  way  from  Edalia's  uncle's  and 
Bertha's  home;  and  last  night  a  bright  light  had  shone 
through   the  windows   of   Dr.   Montrose's   mansion,   from 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  21 

candle-light  till  the  chime  of  two;  and,  nervously,  Edalia 

had  longed  for  the  dawn  of  day,  to  get  the  whole  secret  from 
little,  simple-hearted  Minnie.  And  not  only  this,  but  she 
had  dispatched  Dinah  to  the  illuminated  mansion,  with  full 
instructions  to  reconnoitre,  and  so  forth,  who  returned  with 
the  soul-harrowing  information  that  Mr.  Charles  Chester  — 
her  "  Charlie  "  —  was  "  setten  up  to  Miss  Min  !  " 

How  jealous  she  was!  — and  how  she  watched,  from  her 
chamber-window,  with  flashing  eyes  and  lip  gravitating 
toward  the  sill,  till  the  last  spark  had  gone  out  in  the  hall 
below,  and  streamed  through  the  casements  of  Minnie's 
chamber ;  for  Charles  Chester  was  her  young  heart's  earliest 
flame,  but  she  had  kept  the  light  "  under  a  bushel,"  lest  it 
should  be  seen  by  "  all  that  were  in  the  house ; "  and  now 
that  he  had  forsaken  her  for  a  brighter,  a  fairer,  and  a 
gayer  one,  she  resolved  in  her  heart,  on  her  restless  couch 
that  night,  to  smother  the  flame  in  its  hiding-place,  or  snuff 
herself  out  in  the  arduous  effort  —  in  a  word,  to  conquer  or 
die !  She  wrote  out  in  fancy,  on  the  flag  of  firm  resolve,  the 
motto  that  should  henceforth  be  hers  :  "  Victory  or  Death  ! " 
And  after  repeating  the  touching  lines  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
as  an  elegy  for  Love's  Young  Dream  — 

"  Like  the  dew  on  the  mountain, 
Like  the  foam  on  the  river, 
Like  the  bubble  on  the  fountain, 
Thou  art  gone,  and  forever !  " 

poor,  sentimental  Edalia  Redmond  sobbed  herself  into  an 
uneasy  slumber. 

Unusually  early  she  was  up  this  morning,  and  at  her 
window,  looking  out  for  Minnie ;  but  the  muslin  curtains 
that  shaded  her  casements  were  undrawn,  and  she  knew  the 
object  of  her  jealousy  had  not  yet  risen.  Dispatching 
Dinah  with  a  hasty  message  to  the  Doctor's,  she  descended 


22  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

to  the  piazza,  where  the  jessamine  vines,  laden  with  bright 
blossoms  of  the  richest  perfume,  were  winding  and  clinging 
around  the  white  pillars  and  dewy  eaves,  where  a  little 
song-bird  had  built  its  nest,  and  was  now  busily  employed 
in  carrying  food  to  its  unfledged  young,  whose  little  open, 
golden-lined  mouths  she  could  discern,  uplifted  and  piping, 
to  receive  the  dainty  vermicular  morsel. 

Mr.  Kedmond  —  familiarly  called  by  the  young  girls  of 
the  neighborhood,  "  Uncle  Ned," —  crept  up  behind  her,  as 
she  stood  watching  the  callow  young,  and  imprisoned  one 
of  her  little  ears  in  each  of  his  big  fists. 

"  Hey-day,  Miss,  —  early  riser !  Think  you  '11  find  a  hus- 
band this  morning  ?  " 

"What,  uncle?" 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  little  innocent!  S'pose  you  don't  know 
it 's  May-day  ?  Snails  don't  crawl  this  morning,  mebby ; 
and  Miss  Edalia  Redmond  isn't  thinking  of  blue  plates 
and  sifted  flour  —  ha,  ha !  " 

"  Uncle !  indeed,  I  was  n't  thinking  of  that ;  and  now 
you  remind  me,  I  '11  go  right  off  and  '  scour  the  plain'  for  a 
conquest.     Won't  you  go  too,  uncle  ?  " 

"P-o-o-h!  fiddlesticks!  What  d'ye  think,  Miss?  snails 
would  write  in  my  plate  but  numbskull!  But  yonder 
comes  Miss  Minnie  in  a  flurry.  She's  off  for  a  snail-hunt, 
I'll  be  bound." 

And,  sure  enough,  yonder  did  come  the  light-hearted 
maiden,  bounding  like  a  fawn  down  the  green  lawn,  sylph- 
like, in  her  white  muslin  morning  gown  and  black  silk 
apron,  with  its  long  strings  floating  out  behind  like  stream- 
ers in  the  breeze ;  and  close  astern  followed  Di,  her  white 
teeth  and  eyes  shining  in  fine  contrast  with  her  smooth 
black  skin.     Edalia  was  at  the  gate  in  a  twinkling. 

"  Success,  young  ladies ! "  shouted  Mr.  Redmond,  his 
shrill  voice  following  them  through  the  shady  woods ;  — 


BEAUTY.  23 

"success,  young  ladies,  and  don't  forget  the  sorrows  of  a 
poor  old  Bach'!" 

It  was  a  sweet  spot,  that  by  the  crystal  spring.  The  roots 
of  the  old  spreading  tree  were  cushioned  with  just  the  softest 
and  greenest  grass  in  the  world,  and  spotted  over  with  tiny 
white  flowers,  and  blue  violets  that  bent  over  the  edge  of 
the  fairy  fountain,  and  mirrored  their  meek  eyes  in  its  cool, 
clear  depths.  And  over  the  little  silvery  rill  that  trickled 
from  the  fountain-urn,  aud  crept  along  the  white  channel 
with  a  musical  murmur,  was  the  dark  old  pond,  environed 
by  a  thick  emerald  belt  of  whortleberry  and  honeysuckle, 
covered  with  bloom  and  golden-winged  bees,  humming  and 
buzzing  in  their  fragrant  cells.  And  then  a  world  of  music 
floated  up  from  the  deep  purple  behind  the  hedge,  from  the 
clear  throats  of  a  thousand  morning  birds,  flitting  and 
chirping,  and  shaking  their  glossy  wings  in  exuberant  joy, 
all  through  the  cool  shadows  of  the  wild  old  pond. 

The  two  girls  dropped  in  beautiful  abandon  upon  the 
green  grass,  and  sat  a  while  in  silence ;  they  were  thinking 
of  one  who  was  wanting  to  complete  the  charm  —  lovely 
Bertha  Belmont.     And  where  was  Bertha  ? 


CHAPTER  IV. 


YOU  won't  laugh,  Edie,  if  I  tell  you  ?  "  queried  Minnie, 
looking  roguishly  up  into  her  companion's  sober  eyes. 
"  Not  if  I  know  it,  Min," —  but  she  did  laugh  for  very 
6pite. 

Minnie  clasped  her  small  hands  together  right  suddenly, 


24:  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

and  a  merry  peal  rang  musically  from  her  red  mouth. 
Edalia  was  irritated.     She  said  : 

"  In  the  name  of  sense,  Minnie,  are  you  growing  wild?" 

"  I  believe  I  am ;  but  it 's  so  laughable  to  think  that  I  — 
let  me  see — just  sixteen  —  am  going  to  be  married !  " 

Edalia  started  up,  horror-struck. 

"Married!     To  whom?" 

"  Why,  Charley,  child ;  dear,  handsome  Charley  Chester, 
that  I  've  worshipped  from  a  wee  bit  of  a  thing.  Don't  you 
envy  me  ?  " 

A  sort  of  disappointed  grunt  escaped  Edalia's  vexed  and 
jealous  heart. 

"Hm!  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  prize,  and  hope  your 
matrimonial  bower  may  ever  be  as  green  as  the  age  in 
which  you  are  going  to  enter  it !  " 

"  Green  !  "  and  Minnie  raised  her  sweet  blue  eyes  with  a 
quizzical  expression.  "I  wonder  what  Walter  would  say  to 
hear  that !  Would  n't  we  have  a  coroner's  inquest  over  his 
unfortunate  self  right  early,  and  a  verdict  rendered  of 
4 Death  voluntary'?" 

"  Then  he  may  die,  for  all  I  care !  I  'm  certain  I  would  n't 
marry  Walter  Eldon  to  save  him  from  hanging  !  " 

Minnie's  eyes  dilated  with  astonishment,  for  the  truth 
was,  to  conceal  her  partiality  for  Charles  Chester,  Edalia 
had  long  permitted  the  supposition  that  Walter  Eldon  was 
the  "one  bright,  particular  star"  that  guided  her  along 
life's  troubled  sea,  like  the  poor  bird  that  affects  distress  to 
decoy  adolescence  from  its  little  nest-home  in  the  grass; 
and  now  that  the  lure  had  been  effectual,  she  had  suddenly 
spread  her  unbroken  wings  and  darted  away,  when  all 
imagined  the  victim  was  sure.  A  faint  shade  came  over 
Minnie's  bright  face. 

"  Why,  Edie  Redmond !  You  won't  reject  Walter  Eldon? 
Poor  Wallie,  it  would   break  his  heart ! "  and  something 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  25 

like  the  tiniest  sparkle  of  a  dewdrop  shone  in  her  young 
eyes. 

"  P-o-o-h,  Min  — ■  fiddlesticks ! '  —  as  uncle  would  say, — 
hearts  don't  break  so  easily.  They  are  only  a  troublesome 
appurtenance  of  the  'mortal  coil,'  fixed  in  the  human 
breast  by  retributive  power;  a  strange,  incomprehensible, 
unfathomable  structure  —  whalebone  and  India  rubber  — 
elastic  as  fancy,  and  strong  as  misfortune  ;  it  won't  break 
when  you  'd  have  it,  and  more 's  the  pity  !  " 

The  young  girl  gazed  long  in  her  companion's  flashing 
eye,  without  a  word ;  the  truth  was,  surprise  deprived  her 
of  speech.     At  length  she  said : 

"  Edie,  you  used  to  confide  in  me ;  won't  you  tell  me  your 
sorrow  now  ? " 

"  Sorrow !  "  —  and  Edalia  laughed  gaily,  by  way  of  dis- 
sembling. "  You  don't  deem  me  capable  of  feeling  a  deeper 
sorrow  than  the  loss  of  a  friend  and  companion  from  the 
sunny  shore  of  celibacy  into  the  wide  rolling  ocean  of 
matrimony  would  occasion  ?  Won't  I  be  lonely  when  you 
are  buried  ?  " 

Minnie  twisted  her  white,  bare  arms  around  her  friend's 
neck,  with  another  merry  peal  that  startled  the  birds  from 
their  leafy  nooks. 

"  O-o-h,  is  that  all  ?  Then,  cheer  up,  Edie,  and  don't 
lengthen  out  your  phiz  to  such  deacon-like  dimensions ;  for 
Charley  is  to  live  with  papa,  and  his  bride  will  be  found  of 
Edie  as  often  and  as  near  as  before  she  assumed  so  weighty 
a  responsibility.  But  see  here,  Edie,  there's  a  snail  just  at 
your  feet,  and,  though  I  did  n't  think  of  it  before,  this  is  the 
first  of  May ;  so  secure  the  prize,  and  let 's  consult  the 
oracle  with  reference  to  your  future  destiny,  for  if  you  won't 
have  Walter  —  " 

"  Plague  take  Wall,  and  the  snail  too ! "  ejaculated 
Edalia,  peevishly,  and  had  well-nigh  landed  the  poor  thing 
3 


26  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

in  the  pond-waves,  in  her  impetuosity ;  but  fortunately  for 
her  hidden  heart,  she  thought  of  the  absurdity  of  such  an 
act,  and  what  fancies  it  might  awaken  in  Minnie's  mind ; 
and  so  she  forbore. 

Carefully  lifting  the  white  shell,  with  its  worm-treasure 
timidly  coiled  up  inside,  upon  a  maple-leaf,  the  two  girls 
bathed  their  faces  in  the  cool  spring  waters,  and  started  for 
the  cottage. 

Jovial  Mr.  Redmond  was  lounging  in  the  piazza,  and 
peeping  through  the  vines  towards  the  gate.  The  old 
gentleman  poked  his  round,  good-natured  face  through  a 
loophole  made  by  his  two  hands  amid  the  leaves  and  blos- 
soms, and  shut  one  eye  at  the  maple-leaf  in  his  niece's  hand. 

"Hey-day,  Miss,  scared  'im  up,  did  ye?" 

"  No,  indeed,  uncle ;  he  scared  me  up.  Like  a  true  lover, 
the  thing  came  and  humbled  himself  in  the  grass  at  my 
feet ;  and  so  to  imitate  the  example  of  the  good,  '  he  wTas  a 
stranger  and  I  took  him  in.' " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  capital,  by  Jupiter !  But,  see  here,  Miss 
Minnie,  where 's  your  bug  ?  " 

"  Could  n't  catch  him,  Uncle  Ned.  Snails  all  know  when 
May-day  comes,  and  having  a  radical  aversion  to  writing, — 
like  some  correspondents  who  '  hate  the  very  sight  of  a  pen,' 
—  they  hide  away  in  their  dens  till  the  danger  is  past ;  all 
but  this  poor  novice,  whose  temerity  will  surely  cause  him 
to  be  laid  on  the  table." 

"  Oh,  blast  the  things !  you  did  n't  look  !  " 

"Why  no,  Uncle  Ned,  I  didn't  much.  The  truth  is," 
and  she  glanced  coyly  at  the  old  bachelor,  "I  know  my 
fortune,  and  ask  no  snail-prognostications." 

"Oh-ho!  that's  it!  And  so  the  question's  popped,  eh? 
I'll  bet  two  chincapins,  the  stopper  flew  out  in  the  moon- 
shine last  night,  and  spilt  every  drop  of  the  boy's  timidity, 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  27 

eh,  Min?"  and  he  chucked  her  egg-shell  chin,  and  laughed 
complacently. 

"  But  see  here,  Miss  Redmond,  you  ain't  going  to  be 
beat  ? » 

"  Why  not,  uncle  ?  I  'd  like  to  know  if  Edward  Red- 
mond, Esq.,  was  n't  beat  in  his  young  day  ?  " 

"  Oh,  hang  it!  Catch  me  going  down  on  my  foot-handle- 
hinges  to  any  female-woman,  so  long  as  I  can  take  care  of 
myself;  unless  Miss  Bertha  will  have  me,  when  she  comes 
back.     But  you,  Ed,  want  a  protector." 


CHAPTER  V. 

MR.    PETERROY   SIMPKINS   OF   PETUNIA   PARK. 

BUT  you,  Ed,  want  a  protector,"  repeated  Mr.  Redmond  ; 
for  Edalia's  thoughts  had  wandered  away  to  distant 
Bertha,  at  her  uncle's  allusion,  and  she  failed  to  respond 
with  characteristic  quickness. 

"  And  have  n't  I  one  in  my  worthy  uncle  ?  I  'd  like  to 
know  that." 

"  Fiddlesticks  !  But  I  'm  an  old  man  now,  and  who  '11 
care  for  Edalia  when  I  put  out  for  '  parts  unknown,'  so 
well  as  handsome  Peterroy  Simpkins  of  Petunia  Park  ?  " 

Minnie  sprang  to  her  feet  and  screamed  with  merriment 
at  this  allusion,  and  wTell  she  might ;  for  said  Peterroy  —  or 
Peter,  as  he  was  christened  and  called  to  Peter's  indigna- 
tion— was  moulded  much  after  the  fashion  of  a  rolling-pin, 
i.  e.  little  at  both  ends,  and  big  in  the  middle.  Peter  was 
decidedly  dumpy  —  in  fact,  a  globose  lump  of  mortality; 
and  had  his  equilibrium  been  upset  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  he 


28  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

would  probably  have  revolved  in  an}'  position  to  the  bottom 
as  easy  as  a  football.  Peter  was  emphatically  round,  and 
might  have  sat  in  one  of  Shakspeare's  'Ages '  for  the  'Alder- 
man's' portrait. 

His  understanding  was  incontrovertibly  capacious,  that 
is,  so  far  as  his  boots  were  concerned  ;  said  boots  being  some 
inches  longer  than  the  generality  of  boot-jacks  ever  came 
in  contact  with.  In  fact,  one  of  Mr.  Redmond's  carpenters 
once  attempted  to  pick  up  Peter's  foot  for  a  shingle ! 

His  head  was  round,  too,  and  so  little  that  his  shiny  silk 
hat,  whieh  under  other  circumstances  might  have  seemed 
important,  disdained  to  look  dignified  on  so  insignificant  a 
caput,  and  slunk  down  obsequiously  upon  his  shoulders. 

His  hair  was  rather  light — that  is  to  say,  on  the  shady  side 
of  a  nankeen  ;  and  each  particular  hair  stuck  "  closer  than 
a  brother  "  to  its  fellow-sufferer,  cemented  in  bonds  of  ten- 
derest  friendship  by  a  daily  and  liberal  application  of  castor 
oil.  It  curled,  too,  said  hair  did  —  thanks  to  sundry  bits  of 
paper  that  each  morning  appeared  on  Mr.  Peterroy's  toilet- 
table,  in  one  round,  full,  golden  roll,  far  below  an  attic-story 
shirt-collar  that  gloried  in  a  vast  quantity  of  starch  and 
indigo,  and  stood  up  stiff  as  a  college  student,  above  his  two 
little  stingy-looking  auditories  that  never  were  permitted  to 
rejoice  in  the  luxury  of  a  grateful  breeze. 

His  face  was  round,  rough,  and  ruddy;  flanked  on  both 
sides  by  a  sparse  "  free-soil "  growth  of  rose-colored  whis- 
kers ;  and  in  the  northern  section  of  the  middle  was  located 
a  "spirit-stirring"  nose,  that  had  evidently  been  taught 
from  childhood  to  "  hope  on,  hope  ever ; "  for  under  all 
circumstances,  and  in  every  trying  vicissitude,  said  nose 
was  observed  to  be  always  cheerfully  looking  up. 

His  eyes  were  of  an  indescribable  sandy  and  gray  hue, 
and  glittered  under  his  short  golden  lashes  like  two  stars 
on  a  frosty  night. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  29 

But  Peter  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  equanimity,  inde- 
pendence, and  unchangeableness  ;  for  Edalia  could  not  re- 
member the  time,  she  declared,  when  his  present  pair  of 
inexpressibles  had  a  predecessor.  In  fact,  they  had  evidently 
known  the  "  growth  of  ages,"  or  else  shrunk  up  with  fear 
during  the  horrors  of  the  Kevolution,  judging  from  the 
amplitude  of  exposed  leather  at  the  nether  extremity  of 
his  person,  to  which  Peter's  pants  absolutely  refused  to  do 
justice. 

Such  and  so  "  handsome  "  was  the  individual  referred  to 
by  Mr.  Redmond  as  a  suitable  personage  to  assume  the 
guardianship  of  his  luckless  niece  after  his  anticipated  de- 
mise. Truth  to  say,  said  Adonis  had,  from  time  to  time, 
evinced  a  right  good  will  to  lay  claim  to  said*"  title,  in- 
duced so  to  do,  doubtless,  by  an  avaricious  survey  of  her 
uncle's  broad  acres  and  solitary  heir,  and  presuming  upon 
his  own  "  chattels,  personal  and  real  estate," —  which  con- 
sideration was  a  prop  to  Peter's  chin,  and  the  rod  and  staff 
that  comforted  him  under  circumstances  of  so  peculiar  a 
lack  of  personal  attractions;  and  none  could  boast  of  a  more 
erect  and  dignified  gait,  or  higher  bared  his  brow  to  drink 
the  essence  of  the  golden  day,  than  Mr.  Peterroy  Simpkins, 
of  Petunia  Park,  as  Peter's  paternal  residence  was  aristo- 
cratically styled. 

Peter's  parents  were  of  the  most  plebeian  origin;  but 
fortune's  wheel  had  turned  them  over  to  wealth  inherited 
from  a  distant  relative  when  their  only  heir  was  ten  years 
old ;  and  thereupon  Peter's  homespun  name  was  elongated 
by  that  self-sufficient  young  gentleman  to  render  it  more 
stylish,  and  his  juvenile  lordship  put  on  airs  to  comport 
with  his  altered  circumstances.  Peter  took  to  aristocracy  as 
naturally  as  a  duck  to  water.  Unfortunately,  in  an  evil 
hour  for  Edalia,  she  had  touched  some  tender  chord  in 
Peter's  sensitive  soul,  judging  from  the  swell  that  upheaved 


30  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

his  linen  bosom,  producing  a  tergiversation  among  its 
crimped  frill,  and  communicating  the  electric  thrill  to  the 
golden  roll  that  lay  upon  his  coat-collar.  Thereafter  Peter 
was  the  great  bugbear  of  her  existence. 

Minnie's  face  finally  smoothed  soberly  down,  after  the 
outburst  occasioned  by  Mr.  Redmond's  remark,  and  she 
said,  demurely : 

"I  am  greatly  indebted  to  you,  Uncle  Ned,  for  this 
insinuation;  it  explains  Ed's  aversion  to  a  union  we  have 
long  considered  inevitable,  from  past  premonitions  —  poor 
Walter!" 

"  Poor  Walter !  "  echoed  Uncle  Ned,  with  a  face  elongated 
to  all  possible  dimensions.  "  Well,  there  's  no  contending 
successfully  against  fate.  Marriages,  they  say,  are  made  in 
heaven,  and  that 's  why  the  girls  sometimes  fly  off  like  a 
parched  pea  just  before  the  knot  is  tied  ;  they  get  in  the 
wrong  pew  at  the  beginning.  '  Fantastic  as  a  woman's 
mood,'  wrote  Scott.  I  used  to  think  he  was  a  confounded 
old  churl  for  it ;  but  '  the  man  's  the  gowde  for  a'  that,'  and 
knew  more  of  the  creature's  nature  than  the  old  bachelor. 
Girls  are  just  like  kittens  —  they  '11  purr  and  look  amiable, 
so  long  as  you  '11  pat  'em  and  smooth  'em  ;  but  cross  'em  a 
bit,  and  their  dander  is  '  riz',  like  a  yeast-loaf  laid  over  till 
morning,  and  their  claws  into  you  like  all  possessed  !  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   BREAKFAST-TABLE    DISCUSSION. 

POOR  WALTER !     And  so  you  've  had  a  lover's  quar- 
rel, eh,  Ed  ?   Scratched  him  and  quit,  and  turned  over 
to  Peter?     Well,  well,  girl,  what  is  to  be  will  be,  and  I  '11 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  31 

bet  two  chincapins  the  bug  has  writ  P  S  in  the  plate,  and 
we  '11  have  a  wedding  here  before  shortly,  and  beat  Min 
yet  —  won't  we,  Ed  ? " 

Edalia  could  have  cried  for  spite  and  vexation;  but 
smothering  down  the  young  volcano  just  ready  to  burst 
through  a  mountain  of  indignation,  she  said,  with  forced 
calmness  and  a  spice  of  vindictiveness : 

"I  dare  say  we  shall,  uncle,  if  you  and  widow  Wilmer 
resolve  to  '  live  and  love  together*  before  September.  Min- 
nie offers  herself  as  a  sacrifice  upon  the  hymenial  altar  at 
the  glorious  autumn  time  —  poor  thing!  " 

"  Widow  Wilmer!  thunder!  Why  hang  —  I  mean,  bless 
the  girl !  You  don't  think  I  'm  going  to  commit  matrimony? 
I  'd  as  lief  stick  my  head  in  a  hornet's  nest,  —  blamed  if  I 
would  n't !     Widow  Wilmer  —  thunder  !  " 

"  Well,  so  I  think,  uncle.  One  may  find  an  antidote  for 
the  poison  of  a  winged  insect,  but  there  's  no  balm  in 
Gilead  for  a  matrimonial  sting,  and  I  have  no  idea  of  sub- 
jecting myself  to  its  horrors.  'After  you'  is  manners  for 
me,  uncle,  and  I  mean  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  my  illus- 
trious predecessor." 

"  And  die  an  old  maid?  I  '11  see  you  hanged  first !  "  and 
the  old  gentleman  snapped  his  eyes  and  fingers  by  way  of 
emphasis. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  marry,  uncle." 

"Sin  and  sixty!  —  don't  believe  a  word  of  it!  There 
never  was  a  girl  yet  who  did  n't  'live  and  move  and  have 
her  being'  in  matrimonial  speculations.  Woman  was  made 
to  marry,  — man  wasn't  so  much." 

"  Very  probable,  uncle  ;  when  the  Creator  said,  '  It  is  not 
good  for  man  to  be  alone,'  and  gave  him  Eve  to  render  him 
perfect.  And  besides,  I  like  to  know  whom  she 's  going  to 
marry." 

"  Yes,  there  you  are  at  the  catch ;  but  I  say,  ivas  n't  he 


32  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

1  perfect,'  after  it  ?  If  Adam  had  lived  an  old  bachelor  like 
me,  he  might  have  been  in  the  garden  of  Eden  yet,  sur- 
rounded by  angels  — just  as  I  am  !  " 

"  Many  thanks  for  the  compliment,  Uncle  Ned,"  said 
Minnie ;  "  but  I  venture  to  say,  if  God  had  made  the 
prohibition  to  Adam  alone,  he  would  have  eaten  the  fruit 
without  any  temptation  from  the  serpent,  and  consequently 
could  have  offered  no  plea  in  extenuation  of  his  crime." 

"Just  so,  Min,"  ejaculated  Edalia.  "The  Creator  knew 
woman's  credulity,  and  man's  irreverent  daring,  and  to 
avert  the  calamity  of  wilful  and  unpardonable  disobedi- 
ence, He  made  the  surpassing  loveliness  of  Eve  a  palliative 
for  man's  transgression,  and  so  laid  the  burden  of  his  sin  at 
the  door  of  Satan." 

"  Oh,  blast  the — I  mean,  bless  the  girls  !  there  's  no  sense 
or  reason  in  'em  !  When  you  think  you  've  got  'em,  they  '11 
slip  through  your  fingers  with  a  contemptible  hypothesis. 
Right  or  wrong,  there  's  no  holding  'em.  But  there  's  the 
bell,  so  let's  leave  fancy  and  take  to  reality; "  and  they  all 
sat  down  to  breakfast. 

"  I  wish  Bertha  was  here,"  said  Minnie. 

"  So  do  I !  "  cried  Edalia. 

"  And  I !  "  added  Mr.  Redmond. 

"Me  too!"  whispered  Di,  behind  her  young  mistress's 
chair. 

And  where  was  our  heroine?  Away  up  in  the  western 
part  of  Carolina,  at  La  Violet  Seminary. 

"  Bert  will  make  a  splendid  woman,  with  her  rare  beauty, 
and  the  education  Belmont  designs  giving  her,"  continued 
Mr.  Redmond. 

"  But  I  'm  afraid  it  will  all  be  thrown  away  on  some 
Yankee  peddler,"  added  Minnie,  with  a  curl  of  her  red  lip. 

"  I  hope  not,  I  hope  not !  Bertha  is  too  sensible  to  do  a 
foolish  thing,"  the  old  gentleman  spoke,  warmly. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  33 

"She'll  do  just  as  her  father  says,  that 's  certain;  —  his 
will  is  law  in  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza. 
He  won't  let  her  wear  a  bit  of  jewelry,  and  wants  her  to 
learn  to  cook,  scrub,  spin,  and  so  forth,  as  the  red-handed 
girls  do  where  he  came  from ;  but  Mrs.  Belmont  manages 
to  keep  her  out  of  the  kitchen.  He  's  tooth  and  toe-nail 
against  aristocracy.  Hm  !  I  wish  he  had  me  to  deal  with !  " 
and  Miunie's  cherry  lip  curled  more  scornfully  over  her  cup 
of  fragrant  mocha. 

"'Just  as  the  twig  is  bent  the  tree's  inclined.'  He  has 
his  peculiar  sectional  notions,  but  is  evidently  proud  of  his 
daughter,  though  he  makes  but  little  show  of  affection:  that 
is  a  Northern  characteristic.  They  make  it  a  point  to  conceal 
warm  feeling  beneath  a  cold  surface  ;  '  pity  't  is,  't  is  true.'  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  loved  under  an  iceberg ! " 
chimed  in  Edalia.  "  If  I  can't  feel  the  sunshine,  it  won't 
warm  me,  and  might  as  well  be  under  a  cloud,  so  far  as  my 
physical  comfort  is  concerned." 

"  Mr.  Belmont  is  a  noble-hearted  man,  say  what  they  will 
of  his  Yankeeism,"  continued  Uncle  Ned,  apologetically  ; 
"  a  more  obliging  neighbor,  or  honester  mortal,  don't  tread 
Southern  soil.  Himself  is  his  worst  enemy.  He  '11  lend 
when  he  needs  the  articles  himself;  and  if  they  're  lost  or 
destroyed,  he  sets  it  down  to  fortuitous  circumstances,  and 
demands  no  indemnification.  He  's  credulous  and  easy,  to 
the  injury  of  his  family.  The  great  pity  is,  that  he  married 
a  Southern  wife,  and  expects  her  to  imbibe  his  Northern 
principles.  'When  you  are  in  Rome,  do  as  Rome  does,'  is 
an  ancient  maxim  that  ought  to  be  respected ;  but  Belmont 
treats  it  with  disdain.  He  thinks  he 's  right,  and  is  as  stub- 
born as  that  new  mule  I  bought  last  week  —  hang  'im  !  — ■ 
the  mule,  I  mean.  I  '11  bring  'im  into  the  traces,  or  break 
his  neck,  by  Jupiter  !  —  I  mean  the  mule" 

"I  wish  you  had  the  same  authority  over  Bertha's  father, 

C 


34 

Uncle  Ned,"  said  Minnie,  laughing ;  "  it 's  a  sin  and  a 
shame  to  crush  that  poor  child  down  so  with  his  low-minded 
Northernism,  when  they  might  stand  so  high  in  the  com- 
munity. Why,  he  might  easily  be  elected  to  Congress  or 
the  Legislature,  if  he  had  the  ambition  to  aspire.  He  has 
sent  her  to  the  Seminary  to  prepare  her  for  the  drudgery  of 
a  teacher,  they  say  —  poor  Bert !  " 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  replied  Uncle  Ned,  with  an  indig 
nant  thump  of  his  fist  upon  the  table. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   BUG   ORACLE. 


AS  Mr.  Redmond  and  Edalia  sat  upon  the  piazza  that 
evening,  and  the  last  beams  of  the  setting  sun  slanted 
over  the  eaves,  and  lay  in  bright  gold  bars  among  the  green 
grass,  he  said,  suddenly : 

"  I  say,  Ed,  time  to  look  after  your  bug,  eh  ?  If  the  thing 
can't  write  P  S  in  a  whole  day,  why,  then  I  say  blast  it ! 
Where 's  Min  ?  " 

Di  was  a  second  time  dispatched  to  the  mansion,  and 
soon  its  young  mistress  was  observed  posting  over  the  green, 
with  parted  lips  and  mirthful  eyes,  swinging  her  straw  flat 
most  unmercifully  by  one  string,  in  anticipation  of  seeing, 
as  she  expressed  it,  "  the  elephant." 

In  solemn  Indian  file  they  marched  down  the  long  hall 
towards  the  pantry,  where,  in  obedience  to  Mr.  Redmond's 
directions,  Aunt  Cora,  the  cook,  had  placed  the  shell-bug 
on  a  blue  plate,  thinly  sifted  with  flour,  with  another  plate 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  35 

turned  bottom  up,  over  that,  to  prevent  its  escape;  and 
above  all  was  smoothly  spread  a  snowy  napkin. 

Slowly  and  solemnly  they  marched  ;  first,  the  squire, 
with  a  face  that  would  have  done  infinite  credit  to  any 
judge  in  Christendom  —  a  face,  in  fact,  that  looked  like  a 
long  ■  exclamation-point  placed  bolt  upright  after  the  word 
matrimony! ' 

Second,  Min,  with  one  corner  of  an  embroidered  pocket- 
handkerchief  just  visible  between  her  red  lips;  the  rest  had 
all  gone  inside,  and  served  as  a  sort  of  hatch  to  keep  down 
the  upgushings  of  a  gleeful  soul,  that  so  longed  to  vent 
itself  in  merry  peals,  the  tears  actually  stood  in  her  eyes. 

Third,  Edalia,  with  a  face  as  solemn  as  her  uncle's,  and  a 
compression  of  the  small  mcuth  that  savored  of  vexation. 

And  lastly  came  Di,  her  great  optics,  like  cotton-blossoms, 
well  spread,  shining  over  her  mistress'  shoulder,  with  the 
thumb  and  forefinger  of  the  right,  hand  compressing  her 
olfactories,  while  the  other  hand  performed  the  same  office 
for  her  lips,  so  as  to  suppress  the  smallest  possible  symptom 
of  a  titter. 

After  fumbling  in  a  prodigiously  deep  pocket,  that  wTas, 
in  truth,  a  regular  curiosity  shop,  Aunt  Cora  drew  forth  a 
key,  and  throwing  the  bolt,  they  all  entered  the  hall  of  in- 
quisition. Ranging  themselves  around  the  table,  a  dead 
silence  of  a  moment  ensued.  Even  Minnie's  face  smoothed 
down.  Mr.  Redmond  folded  his  arms,  and,  with  deep 
solemnity,  asked : 

"Who '11  say  grace?" 

The  floodgates  of  Minnie's  risibility  broke  down  here, 
and  the  tide  of  merriment  came,  in  a  rush,  through  her 
round  open  mouth.  Di  dropped  on  her  knees,  and  out  of 
respect  for  her  master  crawded  under  the  table  to  give  vent 
to  her  feelings  in  characteristic  antics.  Choking  down  the 
world  of  mirthfulness  inspired  by  the  ludicrousness  of  the 
scene,  Edalia  said,  with  astonishing  gravity : 


36  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

"  I  will,  uncle." 

"  You,  madcap  ?    Well,  go  it,  boots  !  " 

"  Oh,  Guardian  Genius,  I  thank  thee,  for  the  loving  care 
and  tender  mercies  vouchsafed  to  me,  from  the  earliest 
dawn  of  my  existence  to  the  present  hour ;  and  humbly 
beseech  a  continuation  of  thy  goodness,  O  Ruler  of  my 
destiny!  especially  in  the  foreshadowing  of  coming  events, 
from  the  smooth  surface  of  this  blue  plate !  Grant,  O  Guar- 
dian Genius,  to  infuse  into  this  '  lively  oracle'  a  spirit  of 
prescience,  that  the  veil  of  futurity  may  be  drawn  aside,  and 
the  golden  glow  of  its  deep  and  marvellous  mysteries  reveal 
the  hidden  things  of  Fate  from  the  smooth  surface  of  this 
blue  plate!  Calmly  and  confidently  I  submit  my  destiny 
to  thy  wisdom;  and  with  whomsoever  thou  shalt  choose  (save 
one)  will  I  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  me! 
But,  O  Guardian  Genius !  by  the  memory  of  what  has  been, 
and  the  certainty  of  what  will  be,  don't  say  —  Peter  !  " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha!  —  don't  say  Peter  !  Good,  by  Jupiter  !  — 
haDged  if  it  is  n't !  Lord,  give  us  grace  I  Ha,  ha !  he, 
he-e-e !  "  roared  Mr.  Redmond,  rubbing  his  hands  in  excess 
of  delight,  and  accidentally  treading  on  Di's  toes  that  pro- 
truded from  under  the  table;  which  casualty  produced  a 
much  higher  key-note  in  her  music,  and  somewhat  modu- 
lated the  velocity  of  his  movements. 

"  But  hark  'e,  young  ladies,  I  go  two  chincapins  on 
;  P  S  and  the  bug,  notwithstanding,  and  wondrous  gift  to 
Ed,  if  I  lose  —  so  let 's  see  ; "  and  he  exposed  the  poor  snail 
snugly  coiled  up  on  the  rim  of  the  plate,  with  a  trail  ex- 
tending from  the  bottom,  and  a  multiplicity  of  lines  drawn 
upon  the  white  surface  by  the  helpless  captive,  in  its  efforts 
to  escape  its  close  prison,  probably. 

Mr.  Redmond  and  Minnie  bent  over  it  with  the  liveliest 
interest,  her  eyes  twinkling  like  stars,  with  fun  and  expec- 
tation. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  37 

Edalia  was  apparently  indifferent,  but  in  reality  would 
have  given  very  much  to  see  what  alphabetieal  characters 
the  traces  most  resembled  ;  for,  having  been  left  an  orphan 
in  infancy,  and  reared  in  the  arms  of  Africa's  descendants, 
it  was  but  natural  to  suppose  she  had  imbibed  a  consider- 
able quantum  of  superstition  inherent  in  that  race;  and 
though  she  could  not  reconcile  it  with  more  enlightened 
understanding  and  powers  of  reasoning  upon  natural  prin- 
ciples, that  a  worm  should  be  prophetic  of  future  results, 
yet  so  repeatedly  had  she  listened  to  the  recital  of  marvel- 
lous events  treasured  up  in  the  storehouse  of  these  unsophis- 
ticated and  credulous  people's  retentive  memory,  and  so 
redundant  was  her  imagination,  that  it  subjugated  her  rea- 
soning faculties,  and  she  could  scarcely  separate  what  she 
heard  from  what  she  fancied,  and  consequently  could  hardly 
persuade  herself  that  they  were  less  than  real.  Such  is 
the  effect  of  association. 

Judge,  then,  of  the  mighty  palpitations  of  her  anxious 
heart,  when  Minnie  exclaimed,  with  a  scream  of  delight : 

"I've  found  it,  Ed! — an  S  as  true  as  fate!"  and  she 
clasped  her  small  white  hands,  while  a  gush  of  merriment 
followed  the  announcement ;  then,  with  a  rueful  countenance, 
she  added,  pityingly  : 

"  Poor  Edie  !  it 's  almost  as  bad  as  marrying  a  Yankee!  " 


i 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MR.  SIMPKIXS   VISITS   MISS   REDMOND. 

WON'T   have  him,  I  '11  die  first,"  ejaculated  Edalia, 
in  the  excitement  of  the  moment. 

Good  !  —  ha,  ha  !  —  glory  in  your  spunk  !  "  responded 
4 


38  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

Uncle  Ned  ;  "  but  there  's  no  use  contending  against  fate  ; 
and  if  the  bug  says  '  Peter,'  why,  so  it  '11  be  —  that 's  all. 
But,  Min,  it  seems  to  me  these  bows  are  out  of  joint  —  both 
turn  one  way  —  bless  my  eyes  if  it  is  n't  an  E ! "  yelled 
the  old  gentleman,  clapping  his  hands  with  a  rousing  re- 
port ;  "  and  here  's  something  ahead  looks  decidedly  like  a 
W —  four  slantendicular  lines  met  in  two  points  at  the 
bottom.  W  E  —  Walter  Eldon  —  ha,  ha  !  hanged,  if  it  ain't 
—  by  Jupiter  !  " 

Edalia  bent  over  the  object  of  inspection,  and  entered 
into  a  critical  examination.  Sure  enough,  there  were  two 
rough-hewn,  skeleton  initials  approximating  the  form  and 
seeming  ofaWE  as  nearly  as  she  could  conceive  it  pos- 
sible to  be  produced  by  aught  so  inexperienced  in  the  art 
of  caligraphy  as  the  poor  prisoner  in  "durance  vile" 
before  her. 

"Well,  Ed,"  said  Mr.  Kedmond,  "might  as  well  begin  to 
bury  the  hatchet  —  you  and  Wall — for  the  decree  has  gone 
forth.     The  bug  says,  '  Walter  Eldon,  thou  art  the  man ! '  " 

Edalia  was  brimful  of  spite,  and  it  only  required  this 
spark  of  satire  to  ignite  her  mental  magazine.    She  retorted  : 

"  The  bug  has  been  unjustly  arraigned  before  the  bar  of 
reason,  and  common  sense  renders  a  verdict  of  '  not  guilty ' 
of  the  grievous  charge  of  prescience ;  and  I  hereby  declare 
it  as  my  avowed  and  positive  belief,  that,  so  far  as  evidence 
is  relied  upon,  adducible  from  these  hieroglyphic  substan- 
tiations, Edward  Redmond,  LL.D.,  has  alone  had  a  hand 
in  it." 

"J/  —  hang  me  by  the  ears  to  the  new  moon,  if  I  've 
seen  the  confounded  plate  since  the  bug  landed  in  the  meal ! 
/  had  a  hand  in  it !  —  Saucy  minx  !  I  'm  right  glad  now 
you  've  got  to  have  'im !  " 

"Got  to  have  him!  Please  your  honor,  Mr.  Shakspeare 
says  :    '  There 's   a  divinity  that  shapes   our  ends,  rough- 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  39 

hew  them  as  we  will.'  You  or  the  bug  have  cast  my 
future  in  rather  a  rude  mould ;  but  determination  has 
effected  many  a  triumph  over  implied  fate ;  and  as  I  've 
heard  you  say,  uncle :  Quid  homo  fecit  faciat.  I  'm  invin- 
cibly resolved  that  the  prediction  of  this  bug-oracle  shall 
never  be  verified,  —  for  have  him  I  will  not!  " 

Aunt  Cora,  who  had  evidently  heard  the  discussion,  here 
popped  her  black  head  into  the  pantry. 

"  Ki !  Lor'  bless  your  heart,  honey ;  't  ain't  no  use 
talkin'  —  you  's  gwine  to  have  Mars  Wallie  jes'  as  certen  as 
day-brake !  I  never  node  snails  ter  fail  yit.  Dey  seems  to 
know  joerzactly  what 's  gwine  on  in  heab'n,  for  when  ole 
Missis  was  a  little  gal  like  you  — " 

Edalia  stayed  not  to  hear  the  interesting  narrative  of 
Aunt  Cora,  but  hasted  off  to  the  parlor,  where  her  laughing 
uncle  and  amused  Minnie  soon  joined  her. 

"Tat,  rat,  bang!"  went  the  door;  and  Di  bounded  to 
admit  the  visitor. 

"  I  '11  bet  two  chincapins  that  5s  Peter  !  "  said  Mr.  Red- 
mond, rubbing  his  hands  with  delight.  "It  thunders  up 
Olympus  just  like  'im  !  Miss  Minnie,  you  do  the  amiable, 
for  Ed  's  mad  as  a  hornet,  and  stingy  as  old  cider.  But 
Peter  '11  palaver  'er,  to  kill  —  hark  !  " 

"Bon  soir,  mesdemoiselles ;  jesuis  charmede  voir ;  comment 
vous  portez  vous  f  " 

Minnie  responded  : 

"  Tres  bien,jevous  remercie,  Monsieur" 

Peter  went  on,  addressing  himself  to  Mr.  Redmond : 

"Monsieur  Redmond,  je  suis  bien  aise  de  vous  voir  en 
bonne  sante.     Que  dit  on  de  nouveau  f  " 

"  Confound  your  Choctaw  lingo !  "  ejaculated  Uncle  Ned, 
his  eyes  snapping  with  mirth;  "talk  plain  English  to  a 
plain  man,  and  the  deuce  take  your  hypherlut'n  !  " 

*'  Esquire  Redmond,  I  most  importunately  implore  your 


40  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

most  gracious  and  magnanimous  lenity  for  this  unpremedi- 
tated innoxious  introduction  of  Mr.  Bolmar  to  your  uncom- 
prehensive  scholastic  acquirements.  The  world,  sir,  has 
experienced  the  mighty  evolutions  of  a  redintegrative  pro- 
cess since  the  halcyon  days  of  your  adolescence;  and  I 
solicit  the  condescending  extension  of  your  clemency  for 
this  irrefragable  evidence  of  its  commendatory  renovation 
and  marvellous  tergiversation.  I  simply  expressed  my 
ostensible  and  unadulterated  gratification  to  behold  you 
luxuriating  in  circumstances  incontrovertibly  salutiferous, 
and  propounded  the  interrogatory  in  the  transcendentally 
euphonious  dialect  of  trans-atlantic  France,  with  immediate 
reference  to  the  oscillating  on  clits  of  Madam  Rumor,  meri- 
torious of  communication." 

"Ah,  take  a  seat,  Mr.  Simpkins,  —  take  a  seat.  Thank 
you ;  I  'm  in  statu  quo,  as  you  perceive.  News  ?  aye,  we 
have  news  —  a  bit  that  may,  perhaps,  be  highly  entertaining 
to  one  in  your  present  interesting  situation  —  I  mean,  inde- 
pendent bachelorhood." 

Minnie  smiled  mischievously  behind  her  thick  clusters 
of  golden  brown  curls,  and  Edalia  signified  to  her  uncle, 
by  unmistakable  gestures,  her  disapprobation  of  an  exposi- 
tion of  the  day's  adventure  —  but  to  no  purpose. 

The  old  gentleman  continued,  with  a  malicious  leer : 

"By  the  way,  Mr.  Simpkins,  the  young  ladies  and  your 
humble  servant  have,  to-day,  been  impanelled  to  sit  upon 
the  body  of  a  deceased  anchorite ;  and,  after  mature  delib- 
eration and  much  consultation,  finally  rendered  a  verdict 
of  '  death  from  over-exertion  in  an  arduous  effort  at  chiro- 
graphy  !  " 

"  Marvellous  mystery!  "  enunciated  Peter,  his  pale  yellow 
eyebrows  arching  with  curiosity.  "  Esquire  Redmond,  pray 
enlighten  me  with  reference  to  this  incongruous  affair." 

"  Readily  comprehended,  sir,  by  the  most  ordinary  capa- 


BERTH A, THE    BEAUTY. 


41 


city.      Simply   suggestive   of  shell-bugs,   blue   plates,  and 
sifted  flour." 

Mr  Redmond  sneezed,  and  blew  his  nose,  strongly,  alter 
this  confession,  and  Mr.  Peterroy  foiled  to  catch  the  expres- 
sion of  his  convulsed  countenance. 

Peter  pressed  one  delicate  hand  that  sported  a  magni- 
ficent diamond,  upon  the  left  pocket  of  his  white  vest,  and 
shook  the  golden  roll  upon  his  coat-collar,  with  a  prolonged 
bow,  as  he  replied  : 

"  Ah,  the  fair  ladies  have  consulted  the  foreshadower  ot 
coming' events  relative  to  affairs  appertaining  to  a  felicitous 
state  conterminous  upon  that  of  celibacy.  Permit  the  une- 
quivocal expression  of  an  ebullient  hope,  that  the  result  of 
the  investigation  has  been  highly  conducive  to  delectable 
inspirations,  in  the  pure  hearts  of  the  angelic  experimenters." 
Mr.  Redmond's  handkerchief  was  again  brought  into 
requisition,  as  he  observed  the  direction  in  which  the  young 
gentleman's  eye  wandered ;  and  recovering  gravity  behind 
its  friendly  folds,  he  proceeded  : 

"  Perfectly  satisfactory,  beyond  question,  Mr.  Simpkins  ; 
in  proof  of  which  see  Miss  Edalia's  sedate  face.  Young 
ladies,  sir,  are  terribly  deceptive  creatures,  so  far  as  the 
chief  end  and  aim  of  their  life  is  concerned,  and  invariably 
usurp  the  prerogative  of  a  holy  deacon,  when  most  unfit,  in 
feeling,  to  act  in  his  capacity.  Trust  me,  sir,  maidens  natu- 
rally resort  to  demureness  to  conceal  some  covert  and  grati- 
fied emotion." 

Edalia  glanced  at  the  speaker,  comprehended  the  motive 
that  impelled  the  speech,  and  grew  hastily  communicative. 
But  Peter  was  deluded  and  entrapped,  in  his  simplicity 
and  bigotry,  by  the  ambiguous  phrases  of  facetious  Uncle 

Ned. 

4* 


42  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PETER   GETS   SACKED. 

TPHE  old  clock  in  the  corner  chimed  eleven,  and  Mr. 
JL  Redmond  rose,  at  a  signal  from  Minnie,  to  escort  her 
home.  They  vouchsafed  Edalia  one  backward  glance  as 
they  passed  out. 

She  was  alone  with  Peter.  The  cricket  chirped  on  the 
hearth,  and  the  tick,  tick  of  his  repeater  was  distinctly  heard, 
in  the  profound  silence  that  reigned  supreme,  after  their  de- 
parture. 

"  Will  Miss  Edalia  condescend  to  inform  me  of  the  im- 
port of  the  bug-oracle's  communication  ?  "  at  length  greeted 
her  nervous  senses. 

Edalia  evaded  the  inquiry,  and  he  dropped  heavily  at 
her  feet,  upsetting  an  ottoman  in  his  downward  progress. 

Submitting  tacitly  to  the  detention  of  both  hands,  the 
amused  maiden  listened  patiently  to  an  elaborate  declara- 
tion, composed  principally  of  polysyllables,  interlarded  with 
French,  and  terminating  with  two  exclamation-points  in 
parenthesis ! 

If  the  bug  had  written  P  S  in  the  plate,  it  would  very 
speedily  have  been  proven  a  "false  prophet." 

Peter  retired  in  high  dudgeon  and  no  little  mortification 
at  the  rejection  of  the  suit  of  his  consequential  lordship  ; 
while  Edalia  went  up  to  her  chamber,  with  a  quiet  smile 
lurking  in  the  corners  of  her  small  mouth  at  the  remem- 
brance of  the  recent  ludicrous  scene. 

Her  eyes  fell  upon  a  letter,  as  she  approached  the  bureau, 
and  as   the  superscription   met  her  view,  the  young    girl 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  43 

caught  it  up  hastily,  with  an  involuntary  exclamation  that 
aroused  Di,  who  was  napping  it  on  the  hearth-rug. 

"  Lordy,  massy  !  what 's  de  matter,  Miss  Ed  ? " 

"  When  did  this  come  ?  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  ?  "  two 
questions  in  one  breath. 

"  Oh,  lordy  !  "  whined  Di,  rubbing  her  sleepy  eyes  with 
both  hands. 

"  I  forgot  it,  Miss  Ed.  Mars  Belmont  called  me  over  for 
it  when  you  was  at  tea,  an'  I  brung  it  up  here  an'  furgot  it 
—  'deed  I  did,  Miss  Ed  !  He  said  the  mail  got  in  later  'n 
usual." 

"Now  you  have  done  it,  you  mean  thing!  It's  from 
Bertha,  and  — " 

"  Oh,  goody  !  "  Di  leaped  up  and  clapped  her  hands, 
with  a  broad  grin. 

"  And  Minnie  can't  see  it  now  till  morning !  You  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself!  " 

"  I  'm  rale  sorry  —  'deed  I  is,  Miss  l£d  !  "  and  Di  looked 
so  penitent  that  her  young  mistress  kindly  answered  her 
inquiries  respecting  the  writer's  health,  happiness,  etc., 
and  then  bade  her  go  to  sleep  again ;  which  Di  was  by  no 
means  slow  in  doing. 

Edalia's  countenance  changed  many  times  during  the 
perusal.  Now  it  was  solemn,  then  indignant;  now  com- 
passionating, then  furious ;  now  it  was  white  and  stern,  then 
a  deep  flush  of  evident  anger  swept  over  it. 

She  started  up  suddenly,  firmly  grasping  the  missive, 
and  left  the  chamber  noiselessly.  A  stranger  might  have 
read  the  kindness  of  her  heart  in  the  considerate  feet  that 
forbore  to  disturb  a  slumbering  servant.  Coarse-grained, 
ill-natured,  and  selfish  beings  may  be  known  by  their 
heavy  step. 

Edalia  went  down  the  long  stairs  swiftly,  and  tapped 
softly  at  her  uncle's  chamber-door. 


44  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"  Hallo!  "  cried  a  voice  inside. 

"  Have  you  retired,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly  —  got  one  leg  out  yet !  " 

"  I  want  to  come  in,  please." 

"You  do?  — what  the  deuce!  Well,  hold  on  there  till 
I  slip  into  this  wrapper.  There,  (throwing  open  the  door,) 
could  n't  wait  till  morning  to  consult  me  about  marrying 
Peter,  eh?" 

"  Now  don't,  please !  I  'm  just  as  mad  as  Tucker,  Uncle 
Edward,  and  I  can't  sleep  a  wink  till  I  've  stirred  up  your 
ire  too." 

"A  most  charitable  design,  by  Jupiter  !  Now  St.  Felix 
defend  me  from  the  witch  !  She 's  run  stark  mad,  and 
mebbe  may  bite! — can't  sleep  a  wink,  and  comes  down 
here  wdiite  as  a  ghost,  to  scare  me  out  of  my  dreams !  What 
the  deuce  is  it,  child  ?  " 

"  I  've  got  a  letter  from  Bertha,  uncle." 

"  Ha,  ha,  haw !  —  is  that  all,  you  torment !  Blamed  if 
I  did  n't  think  you  'd  got  the  hydrophoby,  or  some  other 
rabid  disease,  from  the  shine  of  your  eyes  —  ha,  haw !  Well, 
what  the  mischief  is  to  pay  with  Bertha  ?  —  Bit  by  a  rattle- 
snake, or  run  away  and  got  married  to  some  jackanapes?" 

"  Worse  than  that,  uncle  ?  Here,  take  this  easy-chair, 
and  I  '11  read  you  this  stirring  epistle,  if —  " 

"  Worse  'n  being  bit  by  a  rattlesnake  !  What  the  deuce 
is  it  ? "  The  old  gentleman  stared  at  her  in  evident  con- 
sternation. 

"  I  meant  a  run-away  marriage,  uncle." 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  45 


CHAPTER  X. 


I^HAT  the  reader  may  understand  our  heroine's  letter 
_  more  fully,  we  will  go  back  a  few  months,  and  come  up 
to  the  date  of  Bertha's  address  to  her  confidential  friend, 
With  some  revelations. 

It  was  a  large  handsome  house,  set  down  in  a  wide  beau- 
tiful grove,  with  a  broad  avenue  leading  up  to  it  from  the 
sandy  highway. 

In  front  was  a  far  -  reaching  corn  -  field,  with  African 
laborers  singing  merrily  over  the  shining  hoe  and  cutting 
plough  ;  to  the  right  was  a  smaller  field,  with  a  cotton-gin 
whirring  and  whizzing  away,  from  morning  till  night,  at  the 
farther  edge  of  the  worm-fenced  inclosure ;  to  the  left  was  a 
small  building,  near  the  yard,  plebeian  in  appearance,  but 
aristocratically  styled  "  the  Academy  ; "  and  beyond  this 
stately  residence  loomed  up  the  dark  wild  woods.  With 
"the  Academy"  we  have  the  most  to  do;  but  a  portrait 
of  the  inmates  of  the  wealthy  home  may  not  be  inappro- 
priate. 

Colonel  Wilmer,  the  head  of  the  house,  was  a  large,  fat, 
red-faced,  good-natured  man,  with  gray  eyes  and  gray  queue, 
which  was  the  rich  man's  pride,  for  it  wras  the  only  queue  in 
that  section  of  the  old  North  State.  Colonel  Wilmer  had 
but  one  child  —  a  blue-eyed,  slender,  sickly  girl,  Dora,  whose 
heart  was  w7arm  and  generous,  but  whose  intellect  was  not 
of  a  superior  order.  A  brother  and  sister  had  gone  to  the 
grave  early,  and  Colonel  Wilmer  and  his  dyspeptic  wife 
were  in  daily  dread  of  losing  this  only  remaining  scion  of 
their  wealthy  house.     Dora  was -the  darling  of  their  hearts, 


46  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

was  petted,  physicked,  and  flannelled,  until  her  white  face 
grew  sallow,  her  slender  form  seemingly  consumptive,  and 
her  blue  eyes  dull  and  spiritless. 

Mrs.  Wilnier  was  a  weak-minded,  inquisitive,  but  amiable 
woman,  if  not  thwarted  in  her  wishes  and  designs.  Her 
greatest  weakness  was  envy  and  jealousy.  She  could  not 
endure  to  have  her  daughter  thrown  in  the  shade  by  an- 
other's superior  capacity,  even  though  that  other  was  her 
inferior  in  wealth  and  station ;  she  forgot  her  womanly  dig- 
nity, and  betrayed  a  most  lamentable  defect  in  the  noblest 
powers  of  the  mind,  by  condescending  to  a  controversy  with 
a  child. 

Dora  Wilmer  was  a  pupil  at  La  Violet  Seminary  for  a 
short  time  —  only  a  short  time.  The  girls  of  the  neighbor- 
hood wondered  why  she  had  left  so  early,  but  Bertha  Bel- 
mont never  learned  the  secret  until  she  became  a  pupil  at 
the  same  institution.  Dora's  delicate  health  was  the  avowed 
cause.  That  was  Miss  Wilmer's  last  experience  in  boarding- 
school  life.  A  "  governess  "  was  obtained  from  Connecticut 
for  the  young  heiress,  and  the  girls  of  the  neighborhood 
were  invited  to  become  pupils  with  Dora.  A  small,  select 
class  was  formed,  among  which  was  our  bright  and  beauti- 
ful heroine.  Colonel  Wilmer  was  what  is  termed  "close" 
for  a  rich  man  ;  for  a  poor  one,  it  would  have  been  "  mean." 
And  by  securing  a  certain  number  of  scholars  for  his 
daughter's  "  governess,"  her  salary  would  not  all  come  out 
of  his  plethoric  purse. .  It  might  have  been  made  a  money- 
making  business  with  the  Colonel ;  whether  it  was  or  not, 
we  will  not  assume  the  responsibility  of  saying.  We  leave 
it  to  the  reader  to  judge  of  the  probability  from  the  circum- 
stances to  be  related. 

Miss  Hinzman,  the  teacher,  was  a  fair,  frail,  girlish  blonde. 
Bertha  Belmont  loved  her.  But  she  was  not  long  permitted 
to  enjoy  the   advantages  'of  her  society  and  instructions. 


THE    BEAUTY.  47 

Miss  Hinzman,  in  a  few  weeks,  was  reduced,  by  disease, 
almost  to  death's  door,  and  at  the  earliest  possible  moment 
left  the  lonely  spot  for  the  more  congenial  atmosphere  of 
Norfolk.  Bertha,  Edalia,  and  Minnie,  grieved  over  the 
loss  of  their  gentle  -  hearted  friend.  Colonel  Wilmer  and 
family  uttered  no  word  of  regret. 

Miss  Watruff,  of  New  York,  was  the  successor;  wholly 
unlike,  in  mind  and  person,  —  squat  form,  large  black  eyes, 
and  hair  of  the  same  hue,  pomatumed  to  the  last  degree  of 
oleaginous  heaviness.  Both  showy  and  vain,  and  wholly 
ansympathizing,  she  failed  to  win  the  affection  of  our 
Bertha  and  her  two  best  friends. 

The  old  building  denominated  "the  Academy"  was 
moved  up  from  the  woods  to  the  yard,  and  the  new  teacher 
commenced  her  duties  with  a  dignity  and  stately  reserve 
meant  to  awe  her  pupils  into  reverence  for  the  august,  little, 
dumpy  individuality. 

It  was  drawing-day,  and  Bertha  had  finished  her  sketches 
and  presented  the  sheet  to  Miss  Watruff  for  inspection.  She 
stood  silently  beside  her  "chair  of  state,"  watching  her 
countenance,  to  catch  its  expression  of  approval  or  disap- 
probation. The  brunette  face  remained  immovable.  Finally 
she  said,  doubtingly,  without  lifting  her  eyes  from  the 
drawing : 

"  Did  you  do  this  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  —  Bertha  wondered  at  the  strange  query, 
until  the  truth  crept  into  her  young  mind  and  brightened 
her  brown  eyes. 

"It's  very  well."  Miss  Watruff  returned  the  drawings 
and  turned  away  with  cool  indifference.  No  smile  of  en- 
couraging approval  accompanied  the  words,  "It's  very 
well." 

Bertha  knew  it  was  "  well,"  and  so  did  her  two  friends, 
who  made  mouths  at  the  teacher,  privately,  for  her  stingy 


48  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

praise ;  but  Bertha  was  secretly  hurt  by  Miss  Watruff's  cool 
commendation. 

Dora  was  also  stung  by  even  this  sparse  praise.  She  bent 
over  to  Bertha,  and  whispered,  invidiously : 

"  You  feels  as  big  as  a  governor  !  " 

Our  heroine  smiled  at  Dora's  poor  grammar,  and  poorer 
spirit.  She  comprehended  now  the  head  and  front  of  her 
offending ;  the  drawings  were  too  well  executed  to  suit  Dora, 
but  why  her  teacher  should  treat  them  so  indifferently  she 
could  not  divine.     She  learned  the  truth  subsequently. 

Colonel  Wilmer  was  an  admirer  of  talent;  —  no  matter 
how  poor  and  obscure  a  child  might  be,  if  it  evinced  talent, 
Colonel  Wilmer  was  its  friend  and  patron.  A  handsome  young 
English  wanderer,  whose  quick  wit  had  attracted  the  old 
gentleman's  notice,  had  so  ingratiated  himself  into  the  rich 
man's  affections  by  his  extraordinary  gifts  of  mind,  that  he 
had  been  forthwith  installed  in  the  Colonel's  family  as  one 
of  its  members,  and  entered  as  pupil  to  Mr.  Belmont,  with 
his  own  son,  previous  to  the  death  of  that  noble  young  son. 

Thomas  Wilmer  was  plain  in  person;  but  the  poet's 
assertion,  "the  good  die  young,"  was  fully  verified  in  his 
death.  The  fairest,  purest  star  of  the  Wilmer  race  set  in 
his  slender  grave,  and  shines  on  immortal  in  the  glory  land. 

Thomas  was  his  father's  son,  and  the  "  closeness "  attri- 
buted to  that  father  might  have  proceeded  from  another 
source.  Many  an  innocent  dog,  like  poor  Tray,  has  been 
soundly  thrashed  for  being  found  in  bad  company. 

Thackeray  says:  "Since  the  days  of  Adam  there  has 
hardly  been  a  mischief  done  in  this  world  but  a  woman  has 
been  at  the  bottom  of  it." 

We  shall  see. 

They  were  gathered  around  the  tea-table  —  Colonel  Wil- 
mer, wife,  daughter,  teacher,  and  adopted  son,  Leroy  Dan- 
vers. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  49 

Leroy  was  now  twenty  years  old,  very  handsome  and 
manly,  but  atheistic,  as  Englishmen  unfortunately  usually 
are.  The  young  man  was  a  genuine  admirer  of  our  heroine, 
and  made  no  secret  of  his  preference  during  their  association 
as  schoolmates ;  and  his  visits  to  the  low  brown  house  with 
the  long  piazza  were  regularly  continued,  when  Mr.  Bel- 
mont had  received  the  appointment  of  Postmaster,  and 
resigned  his  school.  Bertha  was  shy  of  the  enamored 
youth,  for  his  profanity,  overheard  on  several  occasions, 
repulsed  her.  She  admired  his  beauty  and  talents,  but 
shrank  from  the  wicked  possessor. 

The  good-natured  Colonel  addressed  himself  to  Miss 
Watruff,  as  they  discussed  the  dainties  of  the  tea-table  that 
pleasant  eve. 

"And  how  do  you  find  Miss  Bertha  as  a  scholar?  — 
bright  as  a  new  shilling,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  never  knew  an  apter  pupil,  sir.  She  progresses  sur- 
prisingly, particularly  in  drawing  and  music.  She  is  so  far 
advanced  in  other  studies  that  her  improvement  in  them  is 
not  so  perceptible." 

"  I  told  you  so.  She  was  always  at  the  head  of  her  class 
in  our  school"  —  and  Leroy  looked  over  at  the  Colonel, 
with  a  bright  face. 

"Ah,  young  gentlemen  in  love  are  not  very  impartial 
judges ;  I  make  some  allowance  for  your  raptures,  my  boy, 
on  that  score  ;  but  I  always  knew  Bertha  was  smart ; "  — 
this  was  invariably  the  good  man's  word  for  "talented." 

Leroy  colored  slightly,  and  laughed  gaily,  at  this  well- 
meant  and  well-merited  shot  in  the  presence  of  a  stranger  — 
and  that  stranger  a  little  black-eyed  young  woman. 

Mrs.  Wilmer  bit  her  thin  lip,  as  she  remarked,  dryly : 

"I  never  discovered  anything  specially  remarkable   in 
that  child ;  she  is  not  destitute  of  brains,  nor  gifted  with 
more   than   an  ordinary  share.     If  she  learns  well,  it  is 
5  1) 


50  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

simply  because  she  is  forced  to  it  by  her  Yankee  father, 
who,  I  believe,  designs  her  to  get  her  living  by  teaching." 

This  was  stepping  on  the  teacher's  toe  with  a  vengeance, 
and  her  countenance  betrayed  her  consciousness  of  the  ruth- 
less compression  ;  but  it  produced  the  desired  effect,  for  Miss 
Watruff  never  thereafter  laid  herself  liable  to  a  second 
affront  by  praise  of  Bertha  Belmont.  Had  she  been  a  true 
woman,  this  expressed  "belief"  of  Mrs.  Wilmer  would  have 
inspired  her  with  deeper  interest  in  the  advancement  of  one 
who  was  designed  for  her  own  profession ;  but  Miss  Watruff 
was  too  vain  and  selfish  to  sacrifice  the  smiles  of  Mrs.  Wil- 
mer  by  doing  justice  to  her  gifted  young  pupil.  Miss 
Watruff  loved  the  praise  of  men  and  novel-reading  more 
than  to  do  justly,  and  stem  the  tide  of  opposition  in  the  per- 
formance of  duty ;  for  Bertha  never  saw  her  at  home,  out 
of  the  "  Academy,"  but  she  was  deep  in  the  mysteries  of  a 
romance.  But  our  heroine  did  not  condemn  her  for  this, 
for  she  herself  was  "  in  the  same  condemnation." 

Mrs.  Wilmer  was  not  justifiable  in  this  belief  relative  to 
Mr.  Belmont's  intention  respecting  his  daughter;  for  no 
such  design  had  ever  been  entertained,  much  less  expressed, 
by  Bertha's  father ;  he  was  too  proud  and  fond  of  his  only 
daughter  —  notwithstanding  his  seeming  to  the  eye  of  the 
world  —  to  lay  such  plans  for  her  future.  Though  not 
wealthy,  he  possessed  a  competence;  and  necessity  alone 
would  subject  his  only  daughter  to  the  drudgery  of  a  school- 
room. Mr.  Belmont's  motto  was :  "  Prepare  a  child,  by 
education,  for  any  emergency  in  life  ;  "  and  he  acted  upon  it 
with  reference  to  his  own  children. 

But  Mrs.  Wilmer  found  it  very  convenient  to  make  this 
supposed  purpose  of  Bertha's  father  the  cause  of  her  rapid 
advancement  and  mental  superiority  to  her  own  daughter ; 
ignoring  the  truth  that  an  ordinary  capacity  cannot  be 
pushed  into  extraordinary  acquirements. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  51 

Bertha  entered  the  parlor,  one  clay,  at  "Oak  Grove"  — 
the  title  by  which  Colonel  Wilmer's  residence  was  distin- 
guished—  for  music-practice.  She  was  allowed  but  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  —  a  thing  unheard  of  in  other  institu- 
tions; but  the  piano  was  a  new  one,  just  imported  from 
Yankee-land,  and  Mrs.  Wilmer  was  particularly  tender  of 
its  polish  and  tone. 

She  had  practised  but  a  little,  when  Mrs.  Wilmer  made 
her  advent  and  exerted  her  powers  to  divert  the  pupil's 
attention  by  a  display  of  newly-arrived  paintings  for  copying 
in  the  "  Academy."  Bertha  submitted  patiently,  a  while, 
to  the  imposition ;  but  her  time  was  expiring  unimproved, 
and  she  knew  she  would  not  be  permitted  to  extend  it; 
and  as  her  kind  friend  evinced  no  weariness  or  symptoms 
of  cessation  in  elaborating  upon  the  beauties  of  the  water- 
colors  before  them,  she  turned  quietly  to  the  key-board,  and 
gave  her  a  pianissimo  hint  from  its  ivory,  but  without 
effect.  Bertha  was  not  to  be  drawn  off  again  and  cheated 
out  of  her  full  time,  but  she  touched  the  keys  softly,  by  way 
of  respect  for  the  lady's  commenting  voice. 

Mrs.  Wilmer's  passions  became  inflamed  by  ineffectual 
efforts  to  engage  her  undivided  attention  further,  and  she 
flounced  out  of  the  room,  exclaiming  wrathfully,  "  I  believe 
you  think  a  pie-anner  (this  was  Mrs.  Wilmer's  style  of  pro- 
nouncing the  instrument)  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world ! " 

Bertha  "  believed  "  she  thought  her  father  would  have  to 
pay  for  the  use  of  the  instrument,  whether  she  practised  or 
not ;  and  she  "  believed  "  it  to  be  her  duty  to  him  and  her- 
self to  improve  her  time.  Child  as  she  was,  she  blushed  for 
the  woman,  forty  years  old,  who  had  exposed  such  jealous 
weakness  of  mind  for  so  trivial  a  cause.  Our  heroine  left 
the  parlor  with  eyes  open  to  Mrs.  Wilmer's  true  character. 


52  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER  XL 

BERTHA'S   TRIALS   AT   "  THE  ACADEMY." 

IT  was  a  day  of  excitement  at  "  the  Academy,"  for  the 
paints  had  arrived  for  Miss  Watruff's  pupils,  and,  girl- 
like, each  one  was  eager  to  peep  beneath  the  polished  lids 
at  the  small  bright  cakes.  But  disappointment  awaited 
each  young  heart,  for  a  proclamation .  was  issued  to  the 
effect  that  the  boxes  would  not  be  distributed  until  to- 
morrow. 

When  Bertha  arrived  at  the  "Grove"  next  morning,  the 
paints  had  all  been  dealt  out,  and  she  caught  up  the  one 
designed  for  herself,  aud  smilingly  drew  back  the  lid  with 
youthful  eagerness.  What  a  wreck  met  her  astonished 
vision  !  Not  a  single  unbroken  cake  was  discovered  in  the 
box,  but  crushed  into  tiny  pieces,  irregular  and  unmatched, 
they  lay  cracked  and  shivered  in  their  small  receptacles. 
Bertha  was  struck  dumb,  for  a  moment,  while  Dora  and  her 
friends  looked  on  with  cool  indifference. 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world !  — "  was  our  heroine's  ex- 
clamation. 

"They  got  broke  coming  on,"  Dora  said,  by  way  of 
apology  for  the  wreck. 

"  And  are  they  all  like  mine?  "  Bertha  asked,  regretfully. 

Minnie  Montrose  broke  forth,  indignantly : 

"No!  Dora  Wilmer's  hasn't  a  broken  cake  in  it! — her 
cousin  May's  has  but  one,  cracked  across  the  middle ;  and 
the  next  best  is.  her  flatterer's,  Alice  Warding.  Yours  is 
the  meanest  in  the  whole  lot,  and  mine  and  Ed's  are  first 
cousins  to  it !  " 

Bertha's    quick    mind    grasped  the   truth  in  a  moment. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  53 

Her  lip  curled  slightly  as  she  looked  full  into  Dora's  dull, 
wincing  eyes,  and  said,  sarcastically: 

"Strange  that  mine  should  be  a  total  wreck,  and  Dora's 
wholly  uninjured! " 

14  No  ;  it  is  n't  a  bit  strange  when  you  know  the  secret  of 
it!  "  thundered  Minnie.  "The  boxes  have  all  been  picked 
over,  and  the  best  put  into  theirs,  and  the  scraps  into  yours. 
Don't  you  see  ?  " 

Bertha  thought  she  did ;  and  the  meanness  of  the  deed 
scorched  her  sensibilities.  She  replaced  the  lid,  and  laid 
the  box  on  Dora's  desk,  saying,  firmly : 

"I won't  have  it  Pa  will  order  one  for  me  from  Tar- 
borough.  I  can't  afford  to  pay  as  much  for  scraps  as  you 
do  for  a  decent  box." 

Away  went  Dora,  May,  and  Alice  towards  the  dwelling, 
after  this  indignant  refusal  of  our  heroine  to  accept  what 
they  had  rejected,  and  meant  to  impose  upon  her ;  their 
skirts  flapping  in  the  breeze,  as  they  ran  to  bear  the  news 
to  discomfited  Mrs.  Wilmer,  who  had  aided  and  abetted  in 
the  intended  cheat,  and  whose  penurious  soul  shuddered 
with  apprehension  of  losing  the  amount  marked  upon  the 
broken  and  worthless  box.  She  had  not  dreamed  our 
heroine  capable  of  such  open  rebellion  against  her  moneyed 
authority,  notwithstanding  the  memory  she  retained  of  the 
music-room.  Bertha's  deportment  had  ever  been  so  gentle 
and  respectful  that  the  information  of  her  positive  declen- 
sion to  submit  to  such  shameful  imposition  startled  her  by 
the  magnitude  of  Miss  Belmont's  audacity. 

During  recess,  a  servant  informed  our  heroine  Mrs.  Wil- 
mer desired  an  interview.  She  went  —  wholly  unprepared 
for  the  storm  that  awaited  her. 

From  early  childhood  —  that  is,  from  the  time  Mr.  Belr 
mont  located  in  the  neighborhood  —  Bertha  and  Dora  had 
been  warm  friends,  as  well  as  their  parents,  until  Bertha's 
5* 


54  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

beauty  and  talents  quite  eclipsed  the  young  heiress,  as  they 
verged  upon  womanhood,  and  a  coolness  sprang  up  between 
the  female  portion  of  the  two  houses,  owing  to  the  jealousy 
of  Mrs.  Wilmer.  Col.  Wilmer's  admiration  of  talent  waa 
far  superior  to  his  prejudice  against  Yankees ;  and  notwith- 
standing the  disparity  in  their  pecuniary  circumstances,  the 
two  families  were  intimate  friends  and  associates,  until 
"Bertha  the  Beauty"  —  as  she  was  designated  by  common 
consent  —  attained  the  age  of  fourteen. 

Bertha  responded  to  Mrs.  Wilmer's  call ;  and  such  a  burst 
of  abuse  and  violent  anger  never  before  broke  above  the 
defenceless  head  of  an  innocent,  unsuspecting  child.  Our 
heroine  was  confounded  by  the  unlooked-for  tornado  of  pas- 
sion ;  but  she  partially  recovered  her  self-possession  before 
the  wild  storm  subsided  in  exhausted  epithets.  Mrs.  Wil- 
mer  vowed  she  should  have  the  box,  and  threatened  her 
with  terrible  punishment  if  she  dared  to  refuse.  Her  father 
had  ordered  it  for  her,  and  she  was  n't  going  to  lose  the  value 
of  it  for  her  (Bertha's)  meanness. 

Bertha  thought  the  "  meanness  "  lay  in  another  quarter ; 
but  she  simply  reiterated  her  language  to  Dora,  —  who,  with 
her  two  friends,  was  eavesdropping  at  the  door,  —  and  quite 
spiritedly  assured  Mrs.  Wilmer  she  would  not  buy  such  a 
box  of  worthless  scraps,  that  had  been  picked  out  of  the 
others  and  put  into  hers. 

Bertha  turned  away,  indignantly,  to  Mrs.  Wilmer's  aston- 
ishment, with  a  visible  hint  of  spirit-scorn  about  her  small 
mouth,  and  passed  out  of  the  wrathful  presence,  where  she 
had  stood  during  the  raging  of  the  waves,  as  Mrs.  Wilmer 
had  not  honored  her  with  even  common  politeness  by  offer- 
ing her  a  chair  —  stumbling  over  Dora  as  she  opened  the 
door  to  retire. 

At  the  close  of  the  school  that  evening,  while  Bertha 
awaited  her  father's  gig,  to  take  her  over  the  space  of  two 


55 

miles,  home,  Mrs.  Wilmer  visited  "the  Academy,"  and  took 

particular  pleasure  in  slighting  and  insulting  our  young 
heroine.  Miss  Watruff  failed  to  show  her  decent  respect 
in  the  presence  of  the  rich  woman,  who,  she  knew,  and  for 
what  reason,  hated  the  poor  pupil.  She  curried  favor  with 
Mrs.  Wilmer  by  slighting  Bertha. 

That  was  our  heroine's  last  day  at  "  Oak  Grove  Academy." 
She  never  entered  the  residence  of  Colonel  Wilmer  again. 

Mr.  Belmont  was  a  man  of  remarkable  equanimity  and 
generosity,  but  his  patience  was  sorely  tried  by  the  system 
of  annoyance  and  imposition  practised  upon  his  daughter. 
He  firmly  resolved  she  should  not  be  subjected  to  it  longer. 
He  visited  the  Grove  the  day  following,  and  declared  his 
determination  of  discontinuing  Bertha  as  a  pupil. 

Colonel  Wilmer  expressed  his  regrets  for  the  cause,  and 
praised  our  heroine's  talents  in  no  stinted  terms.  The  good 
old  Colonel  was  a  genuine  admirer  of  the  young  girl ;  and 
jealous,  persecuting  Mrs.  Wilmer  found  no  sympathy  in 
her  liege  lord. 

Mrs.  Wilmer  was  sadly  disappointed  by  the  result  of  her 
unfeeling  and  unwomanly  conduct.  She  had  thought  to 
browbeat  and  bend  Bertha  to  her  purpose,  and  throw  obsta- 
cles in  the  way  of  her  advancement ;  when,  lo  !  Greek  had 
met  Greek,  and  she  had  but  impaired  her  own  interest  and 
reputation ;  for  even  her  wealth  did  not  screen  her  from 
neighborly  remarks  privately  uttered. 

Mr.  Belmont  now  carried  his  daughter  to  La  Violet  Semi- 
nary, distant  eighty  miles  westward,  among  the  mountains. 


56  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY, 


CHAPTER  XII. 


MR.  REDMOND  sank  down  upon  the  easy-chair,  drawn 
up  by  Edalia  for  his  accommodation,  with  a  puzzled 
expression  upon  his  good-natured  face,  while  the  niece 
seated  herself  upon  a  country-cushioned  stool,  at  his  feet, 
with  one  elbow  resting  upon  his  knee,  and  read : 

"La  Violet  Seminary,  April  19th,  18 — . 
"  My  dear  Edie  :  —  I  am  tired  —  so  tired.  I  am  lonely  — 
so  lonely  —  sick,  sorrowful,  and  half  desperate!  I  wrote  you 
weeks  ago,  but  no  word  in  reply  has  come  to  cheer  my  sad 
and  suffering  heart.  I  know  the  fault  is  not  in  you,  my 
faithful,  affectionate  friend,  and  I  'm  quite  sure  I  know 
where  it  does  lie.  These  people  are  afraid  of  losing  me, 
or,  rather,  my  father's  gold,  and  intercept  my  letters.  How 
do  I  know  this  ?  I  will  tell  you,  some  time.  But  where 
there 's  a  will  there  's  a  way,  and  I  'm  going  to  circumvent 
them  —  if  I  can.  The  postmaster  here  is  as  mean  as  the 
proprietor  of  this  establishment,  and  that  is  fully  enough 
for  one  human  being !  I  will  post  this  myself,  and  if  I  get 
no  reply,  I  will  post  something  else.  This  you  cannot  com- 
prehend until  I  give  you  a  verbal  explanation.  I  have  had 
but  one  letter  from  home  since  I  came  to  this  mean,  miser- 
able, mercenary  place.  I  have  been  sick  ever  since  I  put 
foot  under  this  wretched  roof.  Pa  has,  doubtless,  informed 
you  of  the  submerging  we  got  coming  on ;  for  there  is  no 
sneaking  with  him.  W.  K.  Wilmer  and  wife  were  over- 
turned in  the  same  place ;  and  kept  it  concealed,  instead  of 
warning  Pa  of  the  way.  We  got  the  whole  truth  from  the 
family  who  rescued  them  as  well  as  us.  Dear!  dear!  what 
poor  apologies  for  men  there  are  in  this  world !  That  duck- 
ing process  gave  me  a  severe  cold,  from  which  I  am  yet  suf- 
fering, not  having  received  a  particle  of  care  from   this 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  57 

nnsympathizing,  heartless  family.     I  could  hear  it  better  if 

I  could  hoar  from  home;  but  I  was  weak  enough  to  betray 
the  fact  to  one  of  the  pupils  here,  that  I  had  written  Pa  to 
come  for  me,  as  my  health  rendered  me  unfit  for  study.  I 
have  not  received  a  letter  from  any  one  since  that  confiden- 
tial confession.  Can  you  not  imagine  the  cause  ?  That  girl 
—  Angeline  Daveling,  of  Petersburg  —  drew  me  out,  by  false 
pretences  of  like  home-sickness,  tender  sympathy,  and  dis- 
like for  the  people  and  place,  and  then  sneaked  out  and 
betrayed  me  to  Mrs.  Browzer !  I've  grown  a  little  wiser, 
if  not  happier,  since  I  came  here,  and  my  organ  of  cautious- 
ness has  developed  somewhat.  That  girl  is  an  ugly-looking 
concern  physically,  and  with  my  knowledge  of  her  deformed 
soul,  just  imagine  what  a  mortal  scarecrow  I  see  daily  at  the 
Seminary!  I  hate  meanness!  The  very  atmosphere  that 
surrounds  a  mean  mortal  nauseates  me;  and,  goodness 
knows,  we  have  little  else  in  this  horrid  home !  We  are 
half  starved  as  well  as  frozen.  We  are  made  to  sleep  in  the 
attic  without  a  spark  of  fire,  and  shiver  and  shake  from 
sunrise  till  breakfast,  with  snow  three  feet  deep  mocking  us 
through  the  loophole  of  a  window,  from  the  bleak,  desolate 
world  without  this  dreary,  dreadful  den.  And  yet  there  are 
pleasant,  fire-lighted  chambers  under  this  roof  that  might  be 
made  home  to  the  pupils,  if  the  hearts  of  the  proprietors 
were  not  wholly  of  stone.  Then  we  are  fed  on  black  tea, 
with  half  a  thimbleful  of  milk  (when  we  get  any),  and  stale 
loaf-bread  without  butter.  Sometimes  wTe  have  black  mo- 
lasses and  one  biscuit  for  dessert.  If  we  venture  to  accept 
a  small  piece  of  ham  for  supper,  we  are  told  by  Miss  Madge 
Browzer  —  who  teaches  painting  —  in  her  coarse,  masculine 
voice,  that  "ladies  don't  eat  meat."  And  yet  when  a  parent 
visits  a  pupil  here,  honey  and  butter  overflow,  every  luxury 
abounds  that  can  tempt  the  appetite  until  they  depart ;  then 
we  poor  mortals  have  "to  pay  dear  for  the  whistle"  the  pro- 
prietors blew  during  the  visitor's  stay.  We  are  always  glad 
to  see  a  strange  face  in  the  dining-room ;  for  we  know  we 
shall  get  one  more  good  meal!  I've  promised  my  best 
dress  to  a  servant  here,  to  supply  me  wTith  dry  bread  during 
the  session,  in  order  to  save  me  from  starvation.  And  this 
is  the  place  Dora  Wilmer  suffered  me  to  come  to,  when  one 
friendly,  generous  word  of  warning  would  have  spared  me 


58  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

all  the  suffering  her  mother's  jealousy  and  injustice  have 
subjected  me  to.  I  could  have  learned  so  much  there,  if 
Mrs.  Wilmer  had  acted  the  woman,  and  not  the  weak- 
minded,  envious  child.  I  have  learned  but  little  here;  I'm 
too  sick  and  miserable  for  school-duties.  I  do  try  to  study 
and  improve  my  time,  and  "  finish  my  course "  here ;  for  I 
know  if  I  return  before  the  close  of  the  session,  it  will  re- 
joice my  enemies  at  "the  Academy."  Mrs.  Wilmer  well 
knows  the  character  of  this  Seminary ;  she  knows  one  poor 
pupil  was  suffered  to  die  here  before  the  Browzers  would 
inform  her  parents  of  their  child's  illness,  lest  they  should 
lose  the  money  for  her  board  and  Dr.  Browzer's  medical 
bill!  And  yet,  should  I  be  forced  to  abscond  from  this 
earthly  purgatory,  Mrs.  Wilmer  would  not  seek  to  justify 
the  act,  from  facts  positive  and  her  daughter's  sad  experi- 
ence, but  turn  it  to  my  disadvantage  and  injury.  This  I 
know,  else  I  would  have  run  away  (don't  start  at  the  ugly 
term  until  you  are  placed  in  my  position)  rather  than  endure 
all  that  is  imposed  upon  pupils  in  this  heartless  place.  My 
poor  teacher  yearns  to  escape  from  this  iron  cage  as  eagerly 
as  her  young  pupils,  and  will  fly  the  first  opportunity.  She 
is  forced  to  share  our  fate  in  the  attic,  and  fare,  and  her 
sunken  blue  eyes  fill  with  tears  at  the  sound  of  the  sweet 
word  "  home."  Just  think  of  putting  a  teacher  in  a  car- 
petless  attic  without  fire  —  and  the  room-mate  a  housemaid ! 
And  yet,  when  she  first  came,  a  lower  chamber,  cosy  and 
clean,  was  hers,  with  the  Browzer  girls  for  room-mates ;  but 
when  the  novelty  wore  awTay,  they  hustled  her  up  to  the 
garret!  She  is  all  I  have  to  love,  here  —  all  that  loves  me, 
otherwise  I  could  not  have  endured  it  till  now.  I  could  not 
live  without  love.  I  'd  rather  die  and  be  buried  than  live 
alone  and  unloved.  Miss  Herbert  is  a  dear,  sweet  girl  — 
only  eighteen.  I  lie  down  in  her  arms  and  cry,  wTith  her 
soft  voice  trying  to  soothe  me,  when  I  know  her  heart  is 
weeping  as  freely  as  my  eyes!  Like  her  pupils,  she  looks 
and  longs  for  letters  from  home  and  friends,  that  never  come. 
This  establishment,  Ed  darling,  is  like  a  partridge-pen, 
has  a  fine  lure  to  the  door  that  is  mighty  easy  to  enter,  but 
everlastingly  hard  to  get  out  of!  I  promised  to  give  you  a 
description  of  the  place  and  people.  I  fulfilled  it  in  my 
first :    but  that  has  never  been  received,  I  feel  confident. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  59 

Perhaps  this  will  share  the  same  fate;  but  it's  a  relief  to 
write,  so  here  's  a  repetition. 

La  Violet  Seminary 

18  a  lonely,  lost-looking  institution,  sits  back  from  the  road 
half  a  mile,  with  wild,  nightmare  woods  hemming  it  in  on 
all  desolate  sides.  I  feel  as  though  I  had  been  dropped,  in 
a  torpid  state,  from  the  cold,  gray  sky,  and  woke  to  find  my- 
self in  a  big  bleak  hole,  with  a  black  rim  all  around,  too 
high  to  afford  the  slightest  possibility  of  escape.  Not  a 
habitation  is  visible  wherever  the  eye  turns  ;  all  is  monot- 
onous and  melancholy  from  this  lonely  prison-house. 

The  days  are  one  long-drawn,  dragging  sigh,  and  the 
evenings  are  horrible  with  Guinea  quacks  until  dark.  You 
know  my  abhorrence  of  Guinea  fowls  —  their  doleful  "ke- 
whack  !  ke-whack  !  "  always  sounds  "  oh,  death  !  oh,  death !  " 
to  me ;  and,  as  if  to  render  this  dreadful  spot  more  terrible, 
those  funeral  fowls  are  too  numerous  to  mention,  in  this 
inclosure,  and  make  night  hideous  after  the  dreary  day. 
All  is  sombre  and  solemn;  even  the  negroes  have  long  faces 
and  lonesome  airs. 

Dr.  Browzer  is  an  easy,  indolent  man,  who  delights  in 
backgammon,  and  corn  in  a  liquid  state.  Miss  Daveling 
softly  asserts,  it  has  been  his  habit  to  begin  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs  and  roll  to  the  bottom  under  peculiar  circum- 
stances ;  but  I  have  not,  as  yet,  witnessed  the  undignified 
performance.  He  advises  his  boarders  to  imbibe  freely  of 
cold  water  every  morning  before  breakfast,  which  evidences 
his  kindness  of  heart  and  most  commendable  charity,  well 
knowing  that  is  the  only  practicable  method  of  filling  up  for 
the  day. 

Mrs.  Browzer  is  a  yellowT-faced  hypocrite  of  the  first  order, 
about  forty-five  years  old ;  sports  pink  ribbons  on  her  dress- 
cap,  and  affects  youthful  gaiety  and  graces.  She  talks  sugar 
and  cream  one  moment,  and  the  next  shakes  her  fist  slyly, 
through  the  window,  at  a  little  nigger  in  the  yard.  I  've 
witnessed  that  performance.  Her  voice  is  soft  and  mellow 
as  May  moonlight,  and  one  would  think  her  a  saint,  until 
they  caught  the  sinner  at  her  sly  tricks.  It  is  said  they 
were  once  wealthy,  and  I  wish  they  had  continued  so  — I 
should  be  happier,  I  'm  sure. 


60  BERTHA,   TIIE    BEAUTY. 

Reua  Browzer,  the  second  girl,  (the  oldest  is  married  and 
gone,)  gives  lessons  on  the  harp,  and  plays  the  violin  with 
her  left  hand.  I  thought  her  pretty  and  good,  until  she 
abused  me  for  weeping,  when  my  heart  was  almost  broken, 
instead  of  comforting  me  with  kind  words  and  womanly 
sympathy.  I  shall  never  think  Rena  Browzer  handsome 
and  good  again,  if  I  live  a  thousand  years.  It 's  the  pure, 
gentle  heart  only  that  makes  a  lovely  face,  say  what  they 
will  of  physical  charms.  She  is  soon  to  be  married  to  her 
sister's  brother-in-law,  and  I  only  wish  he  could  have 
heard  her  abuse  me,  —  if  he  has  any  sense  of  honor,  it  would 
save  him  from  similar  abuse  in  the  matrimonial  state.  I 
sincerely  hope  she  may  get  her  match,  when  she  marries 
him  ;  and  if  she  does,  he  will  be  fire  and  tow,  or  a  magazine 
with  a  lighted  match  under  it ! 

Madge  Browzer  is  distressingly  homely,  and  considers 
herself  a  beauty !  —  wears  very  long  curls  on  either  side  of 
her  fat,  rough  face  (put  up  in  bits  of  paper  in  damp  days), 
and  a  little  pig-tail  knot  behind,  that  gives  her  stately  head 
a  most  laughal}le  conformation.  She  adores  dress,  and  talks 
dictionary  from  A  to  izzard.  It  would  be  exceedingly  inter- 
esting to  hear  her  and  Mr.  Peterroy  Simpkins  engaged  in 
conversation;  indeed,  it  would  be  as  good  as  a  farce/'  (Mr. 
Redmond  here  laid  himself  back,  and  shook  his  sides  with 
suppressed  laughter.)  "She's  sarcastic  and  supercilious  and 
cold  as  an  iceberg  to  all  but  the  rich,  unless  flattered  into 
warmth  and  smiles  by  one  as  poor  as  herself.  Angeline 
Daveling  understands  the  art  of  sweetening  her  vain  lady- 
ship to  perfection.  It  makes  me  sick  to  witness  the  deceitful 
creature's  wiles.  But  Miss  Daveling  is  compensated  for  the 
labor  of  "soft-soaping"  her,  by  the  gracious  gift  of  a  cold 
biscuit  before  dinner,  which  gratified  Madge,  in  a  spasm  of 
generosity,  actually  rewards  her  with  !  Then  Angeline  runs 
up  to  her  attic,  and  laughs,  jubilantly,  at  "the  nice  way  she 
put  the  feather  over  Miss  Vanity's  gray  eye ! "  wholly  un- 
thinking of  the  disgust  and  contempt  with  which  she  her- 
self is  regarded  by  her  "  partners  in  distress."  She  's  the 
most  treacherous  girl  I  ever  knew.  Madge  dearly  loves 
to  talk  of  beaux,  and  hints  loudly  of  "  a  certain  young 
doctor  in  the  Navy,"  which  is  none  other  than  Bertrand 
Cobler,  formerly  of  our  section  !     Just  think  of  Dr.  Cobler, 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  61 

who  courted  Tolly  Wilmer  for  her  money,  marrying  a 
poor  teacher]  If  Madge  owned  fifty  negroes  and  a  thousand 
acres  of  land,  there  'd  be  Bome  hope  for  her,  in  that  quarter  ; 
but  if  vanity  could  compensate  for  lack  of  wealth,  she  \l 
stand  a  fair  chance  anyhow!  She  walks  like  a  peacock  in 
full  strut,  ami  I  often  think  it's  a  pity  she  does  n't  look  at  her 
toes,  —  "  Oh  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us,"  etc.  She  '11 
make  a  sweet  wife  for  some  poor  soul,  if  one  should  happen 
to  bite  at  her  bait,  and  ingulf  the  barbed  hook  of  matrimony. 

Ella  Browzer,  the  youngest  of  the  family,  is  a  grown-up 
baby  —  too  young  to  be  mean  and  mercenary,  and  too  large 
to  be  considered  a  child.  She's  much  larger  than  I  am, 
though  two  years  younger.  She  plays  in  the  dirt  with  the 
little  niggers,  ami  has  no  more  feeling  for  her  parents' 
starving  and  freezing  boarders,  than  the  great  cat  she  hugs 
and  kisses  continually  !  Ella  is  the  handsomest  one  of  the 
family,  and  has  decidedly  the  best  heart  —  would  make  a 
noble  woman,  if  she  were  properly  trained. 

How  do  you  like  the  portraits  hung  up  in  the  Seminary, 
Ed  dear  ?  Fine,  are  they  not,  for  the  daily  contemplation 
of  a  poor,  sick  birdling,  taken  from  its  nest-home  of  love 
and  care  for  the  first  time  t  I  shall  go  mad,  if  I  remain 
here  much  longer  —  I  know7  I  shall !  I  'm  half  crazy  now  ; 
and  but  for  fear  of  Mrs.  Wilmer's  malicious  tongue,  I  'd 
risk  my  reputation  (which  is  dearer  far  than  life)  by  escap- 
ing secretly  from  this  unfeeling,  soulless  den.  If  you  should 
happen  to  get  this,  by  all  that  is  merciful,  help  me  to  escape. 
I  've  tried  hard  to  learn  enough  of  the  theory  of  music,  to 
practise  without  a  teacher,  and  I  think  I  can  get  on  without 
one.  Anyhow,  as  eager  as  I  am  for  knowledge,  I  'd  rather 
rely  upon  chance  for  obtaining  it,  than  remain  here  a  day 
longer.  I  might  manage  to  live  through  the  session,  on 
dry  bread  and  black  tea,  if  there  were  feeling  hearts  and 
kind  words  to  help  me  on.  But  to  be  caged  up  here,  in  a 
sunless  hole,  and  not  even  permitted  to  read  a  line  from 
home,  is  more  than  human  nature  can  bear  much  longer. 
I " 

Mr.  Redmond  never  heard  the  few  remaining  lines  of 
Bertha's  long  letter,  for  Edalia  broke  hopelessly  down  here, 
and  cried  heartily  for  both  sympathy  and  spite  ! 
6 


62 

The  indignant  old  man  sprang  up  right  nimbly,  and 
knocked  his  fists  together  by  way  of  emphasis,  while  his 
sober  eyes  flashed. 

"The  soulless  imps  !"  he  growled  ;  "she  shan't  stay  there 
two  days  longer,  by  thunder  !  If  Belmont  don't  start  for 
her  to-morrow,  I  '11  go  myself,  by  Jupiter !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


POOR  Bert !  —  poor  little  thing !  " 
It  was  Minnie  who  uttered  it,  as  she  read  the  letter 
next  morning,  up  in  Edalia's  chamber.     Minnie  raved  in 
characteristic  style,  as  she  blew  her  small  nose  and  wiped 
her  wet  eyes. 

"  I  wish  they  had  me  to  deal  with ! "  was  her  closing 
remark. 

Minnie  had  no  idea  she  would  have  found  more  than  her 
match,  if  they  had.  Bert  wTas  too  easy,  she  said.  "  She  'd 
defy  the  whole  Browzer  tribe,  with  a  good  many  to  help 
them,  to  keep  her  in  such  a  den,  if  she  wanted  to  get  out. 
Old  Mrs.  Wilmer  might  talk,  and  welcome." 

She  comprehended  now  the  full  import  of  the  mysterious 
smile  that  hovered  around  Dora's  wide,  pale  mouth,  when 
the  news  of  Bertha's  departure  for  La  Violet  Seminary  was 
heralded  at  "the  Academy."  She  was  glad  Bertha  was 
going  to  be  punished  for  being  her  superior  in  talent ! 

Then  she  hurried  down  the  stairs,  at  Mr.  Redmond's 
call,  and  went  over  to  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long 
piazza.     But  Mr.  Belmont  was  gone,  and  Mrs.  Belmont  was 


BERTH  A,    THE    BEAUTY.  63 

in  tears  over  a  heap  of  letters  that  had  arrived  from  Bertha 
the  evening  previous,  and  should  have  been  distributed 
along  the  weeks  since  she  left  her  home.  They  had  all 
come  in  one  mail !  And  why  ?  Bertha  had  absconded 
from  the  Seminary,  and  there  was  no  longer  any  necessity 
for  withholding  her  letters;  they  all  came  in  a  batch;  and 
Mrs.  Belmont  was  weeping  for  the  sufferings  of  her  daughter 
that  they  revealed.  Dr.  Browzer  had  dispatched,  a  mes- 
senger to  inform  Mr.  Belmont  of  his  daughter's  secret  de- 
parture, who  had  arrived  last  night,  and  Mr.  Belmont  had 
hurried  away  at  daylight,  to  bring  the  runaway  home.  He 
smiled  over  the  thought  of  the  daring  spirit  that  would  not 
submit  to  oppression  and  wrong. 

Edalia's  letter  had  arrived  in  the  bundle  over  which  Mrs. 
Belmont  was  grieving. 

"That 's  the  secret,  Ed  !  "  broke  forth  Minnie,  —  "  your 
letter  is  dated  April  19th,  and  this  is  the  second  of  May.  It 
ought  to  have  come  a  week  ago ;  and  you  would  n't  have 
got  it  at  all  if  Bert  had  n't  run  off — poor  thing  !  " 

"  I  say,  blast  the  whole  kit  and  posse ! "  growled  Uncle 
Ned  ;  "  I  mean  to  offer  for  Congress,  and  hire  the  people  to 
elect  me ;  and  wdien  I  get  there  among  the  swell-heads  (who 
do  nothing  but  quarrel  and  fight  and  disgrace  the  country), 
I  '11  offer  a  resolution  prohibitory  of  all  seminaries.  They  're 
treacherous  traps,  anyhow,  and  only  kept  by  skinflints  and 
broken-down,  heartless  high-flyers  —  by  Jupiter!  " 

"You  shall  have  my  vote,  then,  without  pay,  Uncle 
Ned,"  laughed  Minnie. 

"  We  might  have  been  spared  this,  if  Mrs.  Wilmer  had 
been  generous,"  said  Mrs.  Belmont.  "  Dora  knew7  the  hard 
lot  of  a  pupil  in  that  institution,  and  yet  suffered  us  to 
be  entrapped  —  disregarding  the  commandment,  'Do  unto 
others  as  ye  would  they  should  do  unto  you.'  " 

Mr.  Redmond  spoke  up,  warmly: 


64 

"Ah,  my  clear  madam,  if  they  knew  enough  of  the  Bible 
to  repeat  a  single  passage,  your  daughter  would  not  have 
been  constrained,  by  imposition  and  little-souled  envy,  to 
leave  the  school  at  the  Grove." 

" '  Tlie  Academy,'  Uncle  Ned,"  corrected  Minnie,  with  a 
twinkle  of  her  merry  eye. 

"Ugh!  ugh!"  growled  the  old  man;  "Academy  in  a 
nut-shell !  I  say,  hang  the  thing  that  don't  equal  in  dig- 
nity and  size  the  name  it  bears.  You  may  call  a  dog  a 
lion,  but  it  won't  change  the  nature  of  the  beast.  You 
can't  make  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole-hill;  and  it's  simply 
ridiculous  to  give  high-sounding  titles  to  low-sailing  crafts, 
like  plain  Peter  converted  into  Peterroy — ha!  he!  haw!" 

Mrs.  Belmont  smiled ;  Minnie  clapped  her  hands  and 
danced  to  the  music  of  a  merry  laugh ;  while  a  rich  blush 
brightened  Edalia's  cheeks,  beneath  the  significant  glances 
of  the  three. 

"  By  the  way,  Mrs.  Belmont,"  continued  the  fun-loving 
old  man,  "  Peter  got  sacked,  last  night ;  even  his  grand 
name  could  n't  save  him  !  " 

"  Or  his  big  words!"  chimed  in  Minnie. 

"  Then  somebody  has  an  enemy  for  life,"  said  Mrs.  Bel- 
mont, quietly.  "  Peter  will  never  forgive  the  deep  sin  of 
being  rejected — beware  of  his  vengeance!" 

Mr.  Redmond  threw  his  head  back  for  a  strong  laugh, 
and  unconsciously  bumped  it  heavily  against  the  buffet. 

"Ugh  !  ouch  !"  he  groaned,  rubbing  his  gray  hairs  stoutly 
with  both  hands;  "that  concern's  harder 'n  my  head,  by 
Jupiter!  Blamed  if  it  hain't  knocked  all  the  laugh  out'n 
me!" 

There  was  a  fine  concert  of  mirth  at  this  remark,  which 
realized  the  good  old  man's  hopes.  He  had  found  Mrs. 
Belmont  in  tears,  and  had  resolved  to  leave  her  in  smiles. 

Mr.  Redmond  was  a  truly  benevolent  man. 


B  E  R T  II  A  ,    T  II  E    BEAUTY.  G5 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

MR.  REDMOND   STARTLES    EDALIA. 

EDALIA  was  equipped  for  a  visit  to  the  church-yard  — 
her  daily  resort  since  the  soul-harrowing  intelligence 
of  Charles  Chester's  engagement  —  and  was  descending  the 
steps  with  a  sentimental  "let  concealment  like  a  worm  i' 
the  bud  "  air,  that  she  had  acquired  to  perfectibility,  from 
sympathy  for  the  unfortunate  heroines  of  the  most  fashion- 
able novels  and  light  literature  with  which  her  chamber 
abounded,  when  the  cheerful  voice  of  Mr.  Redmond  issued 
from  his  office-window,  and  aroused  her  from  a  pensive 
"  prey  on  her  damask  cheek  "  revery. 

"Where  to  now,  little  gad-about?" 

"  Only  for  a  ramble  through  the  green  woods,  uncle." 

"  Let  me  go  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,  sir." 

"  You  don't  care  if  I  don't,  eh  ?  " 

"  Ha !  uncle,  I  don't  care  if  you  do  !  The  pleasure  of 
your  company  is  respectfully  solicited,"  and  she  dropped  a 
stage  courtesy. 

They  wandered  down  beneath  the  young  foliage  of  the 
dark,  still  grove,  towards  the  little  brown  chapel ;  and  with 
an  expression  she  had  never  before  seen  in  his  mild  blue 
eyes,  he  hesitated  at  the  little  wicket  and  invited  her  to 
enter. 

He  led  her  to  a  slender  grave  in  a  retired  nook  of  the  old 
yard,  beneath  an  ancient  and  luxuriant  willow,  whose  long 
thick  fringe  drooped  gracefully  around,  forming  a  green  can- 
opy about  it.  The  marble  slab  that  chronicled  the  death 
of  the  pale  sleeper  beneath  was  stained  and  darkened  by 
6*  E 


GO  BEETHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

the  winds  and  waters  of  many  bygone  years.  She  brushed 
the  accumulated  dust  and  leaves  from  the  niches  made  by 
the  sculptor's  chisel,  and  exposed  two  tiny  white  angels, 
with  plumed  wings,  smiling  over  a  broken  rose-bud.  Be- 
neath was  written  : 

Sacred  to  the  Memory  of 

EVA  ELDON, 

AGED  nineteen  years. 

Mr.  Redmond  watched  the  process  of  ablution  silently, 
then  sank  upon  the  white  stone.  Edalia  sat  beside  him. 
It  was  here  she  had  designed  to  come  when  she  left  her 
home.  This  was  the  spot  she  had  selected  for  her  last,  long 
rest,  beside  the  fair  young  victim  of  a  hopeless  love, —  fit 
spot,  she  fancied,  in  her  sentimental  sighing,  for  one  simi- 
larly fated !  Beneath,  slept  the  mother  of  Walter  Eldon, 
and  above,  sorrowed  the  destined  bride  of  her  son  —  if  the 
assertion  of  a  bug  was  to  be  accredited.  But  she  enjoyed  a 
romantic  anticipation  of  fading  prematurely  away,  like  a 
young  wild-rose  in  summer-time,  and  experienced  no  little 
satisfaction  from  the  indulgence  of  so  interesting  a  denoue- 
ment of  a  constant  heart's  mournful  love  history ! 

From  such  lachrymal  dreamings  she  was  awakened  by 
the  inquiry : 

"  Do  you  know,  Edie,  the  story  of  Eva  Eldon  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard,  sir,  she  was  the  victim  of  a  father's 
cupidity ;  that,  with  her  heart  irrevocably  given  to  one,  she 
was  forced  to  bestow  her  hand  upon  another,  and  died,  a 
sacrifice  upon  the  altar  of  avarice." 

"  And  who  was  the  loved  one  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.  I  have  been  informed  he  left  his 
native  for  a  foreign  land,  to  avoid  beholding  her  the  wife 
of  another.  It  seems  to  me  such  devotion  would  have  justi- 
fied filial  disobedience.     Don't  you  think  so,  uncle?" 


G7 

Mr.  Redmond  rose  and  examined  a  small  blossom  ana- 
lytically. 

"Circumstances  sometimes  justify  seeming  inconsistencies. 
Eva  Walter's  disobedience  would  have  been  unpardonable 
in  the  sight  of  God  and  man." 

"Did  you  know  the  loved  one,  uncle?" 

"  I  knew  him  well  —  a  penniless  aspirant  to  the  heart  and 
hand  of  the  beautiful  heiress,  who  has  since  acquired  that 
which  would  have  entitled  him  to  favor  in  the  estimation 
of  the  penurious  parent  —  wealth  and  celebrity.  As  you 
know,  Eva  Walter  was  the  playmate  of  my  boyhood,  and 
your  mother's  faithful  friend.  A  recent  occurrence  induced 
me  to  take  you  to  this  grave,  it  being  the  most  suitable  spot 
to  apprise  you  of  a  contemplated  arrangement.  I  am  pledged 
to  the  sainted  sleeper  beneath  this  stone  to  be  a  father  to 
her  orphan  boy  while  life  is  granted  me,  and  it  is  for  you 
to  thwart  or  facilitate  a  propitious  opportunity." 

He  placed  in  her  hand  an  open  letter.  She  opened  and 
read: 

"Randolph  Macon  College,  April  27,  18 — . 

"  My  dear  Sir  :  —  A  stray  waif  on  the  winds  of  time, 
I  cross  the  line  of  minority  undecided  what  course  to  pursue 
for  the  future,  though  the  natural  tendency  of  my  mind  is 
to  jurisprudence. 

"  To  adopt  the  profession  of  the  law,  as  a  resource  in  the 
struggle  of  life,  I  have  an  inclination,  but  would  consult  you 
with  reference  to  the  expediency  of  carrying  into  effect  this 
contemplated  purpose,  before  entering  upon  the  study. 

"  Four  years  of  college  life  may  have  exhausted  my  little 
patrimony,  but  with  a  heart  firm  to  do  and  to  dare  all  that 
is  right  and  just,  I  look  into  the  labyrinthine  future  with  a 
fearless  eye ;  and  though  destitute  of  all  but  native  strength 
and  firm  reliance  upon  an  overruling  Power,  the  watchword 
of  my  heart  will  be,  as  I  glance  beyond  the  veil  that  drapes 
the  battle-ground  of  years  beyond  —  onward  ! 

"My  respectful  regards  to  Miss  E. ;  and  hoping  to  be 


08 

advised  by  you  relative  to  the  feasibility  of  the  plan  pro- 
posed, at  your  earliest  convenience,  I  am,  dear  sir, 

Your  obedient  and  indebted 

Walter  E.  Eldon. 
"  To  Edward  Redmond,  Esq." 

Edalia  folded  the  missive,  and  returned  it  in  silence. 

"Well,  Ed?" 

"Well,  uncle,  what  do  you  propose?" 

"  To  receive  Walter  Eldon  as  a  law-student  in  my  office  ; 
and  thereby  avoid  the  incurrence  of  further  pecuniary  lia- 
bilities." 

Edalia  started,  and  flushed,  warmly.  The  vexations  of 
the  first  of  May  recurred  to  her  mind,  and  she  saw,  in  fancy, 
a  long  catalogue  of  similar  annoyances,  like  land-marks 
upon  the  wayside  of  the  future,  to  be  combated,  inevitably, 
under  such  an  arrangement  as  that  suggested. 

"Well,  Edalia?" 

"Consult  your  own  feelings,  uncle.  I  beg  to  preserve  a 
deferential  neutrality  on  this  point." 

"  Without  your  concurrence,  my  child,  I  shall  carry  into 
effect  no  plan  that  will  operate  so  materially  upon  your 
domestic  life.  I  must  have  your  hearty  acquiescence,  before 
introducing  a  new  member  into  our  little  home-circle.  Con- 
sider the  motive  that  prompts  me  to  this  end,  and  let 
humanity  decide.  Walter's  circumstances  are  limited,  and 
without  this  arrangement  the  remainder  of  his  little  posses- 
sions will  be  expended,  in  order  to  qualify  him  for  the  pro- 
fession ;  and  he  will  then  go  out  penniless  into  an  unsympa- 
thizing  world,  to  brave  the  disappointments  and  delays 
incident  to  the  opening  career  of  a  young  disciple  of  the 
legal  fraternity." 

"  I  have  decided,  uncle  ;  let  it  be  as  you  desire,  but  —  " 

"But  what,  darling?" 

She  looked  up.     His  generous  face  was  all  a-glow  with 


69 

gratified  love,  and  the  old  characteristic  twinkle  had  re- 
sumed its  sway  in  his  smiling  blue  eyes,  in  evident  anticipa- 
tion of  the  unsaid  thought. 

"  But  I  have  one  request,  uncle,  which,  if  granted,  I  shall 
feel  no  opposition  to  your  beneficent  design,  and  shall  enter 
heartily  into  all  plans  that  will  redound  to  the  interest  of 
Walter." 

"  Granted  before  heard,  Ed  ;  name  it,  dear." 

"  Then,  sir,  never  advert  to  that  foolish  affair  associated 
with  the  month  of  May,  and  heathenish  superstition,  and  I 
am  ready  to  receive  and  regard  Walter  as  a  dear  friend, 
and  brother" 

He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  My  child,  your  happiness  is  my  first  care,  and  whatever 
hopes  I  may  cherish  for  you  in  the  future,  relative  to  mat- 
ters of  affinity,  I  shall  never  essay  to  bias  or  constrain  you 
in  affairs  of  the  heart.  I  leave  you  free  to  act,  only  hoping 
my  darling  girl  may  not  commit  the  grand  error  of  many 
of  her  sex  —  mistake  romantic  passion  for  genuine  love" 

He  spoke  this  with  an  emphasis  that  recalled  it  to  memory 
long  years  after,  when  she  had  learned  to  comprehend  its 
import. 

And  so  it  ended.  They  turned  from  the  old  hushed  gar- 
den of  the  dead,  and  wended  homeward,  in  a  gorgeous  sun- 
set of  richest  crimson  and  gold,  and  a  sweet  breeze  refresh- 
ingly astir  on  the  fragrant  evening  air. 

Mr.  Belmont  and  Bertha,  sunken-eyed  and  emaciated, 
drove  up  to  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza,  as 
Mr.  Redmond  and  Edalia  emerged  from  the  deep  grove 
into  the  highway.  The  two  girls  uttered  a  glad  cry,  and 
sprang  into  each  other's  arms.  Uncle  Ned  rubbed  his  hands, 
and  chuckled. 


70  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

BERTHA  TAKES  FRENCH  LEAVE  OF  THE  SEMINARY. 

THERE  was  confusion  at  La  Violet  Seminary.  Miss 
Belmont  was  missing,  and  the  alarm  was  sounded 
throughout  the  Institution.  The  three  boarders  (all  that 
the  establishment  could  boast)  gathered  up  in  the  attic  and 
whispered  over  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  their  late 
"  fellow-sufferer."  Bertha  had  run  away,  they  felt  confident, 
but  they  dared  not  breathe  it  aloud.  They  wished  them- 
selves as  "  well  off"  as  the  daring  one,  if  she  were  not  cap- 
tured and  brought  back.  The  young  trio  did  not  know 
what  recent  additional  provocation  their  late  companion 
had  received  to  incite  her  to  this  bold  act. 

Bertha  was  sick — too  sick  to  descend  to  the  school-room; 
mentally  and  physically,  she  was  wholly  unfit  for  study. 
Our  heroine  had  grown  thin  to  emaciation.  Her  health, 
delicate  from  early  childhood,  had  been  wholly  uncared  for 
by  those  to  whom  her  fond  father  had  intrusted  her,  and 
her  deathly  white  face  and  faded  eyes  sadly  betrayed  their 
neglect.  Then,  too,  she  was  heart-sick  with  hope  deferred, 
longing  to  hear  from  the  loved  ones  at  home.  Day  after 
day  she  had  waited  and  yearned  for  the  letters  she  knew  had 
come ;  for  Mr.  Belmont  was  Postmaster,  and  no  delay  from 
careless  officials  would  keep  her  waiting  in  vain.  But  day 
after  day  dragged  wearily  on,  and  no  loving  words  came 
from  the  dear  ones  afar  to  cheer  her  wretched  state.  Bertha 
was  fast  verging  upon  desperation,  ripe  for  any  rash  act, 
when  she  saw  Mr.  Wetter,  the  Postmaster,  in  close  conver- 
sation with  Dr.  Browzer,  the  day  of  her  elopement.  She 
felt  an  intuitive  conviction  that  she  had  been  the  subject  of 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  71 

such  curncst  discussion,  when  Mrs.  Browzer,  with  a  mysteri- 
ous smile  upon  her  yellow  face,  informed  Iiena  and  Madge 
that  Mr.  Wetter  had  "  come  to  consult  the  doctor  upon  a 
point  of  law."  Our  heroine  had  quick  perceptions;  she 
read  the  silent  language  of  the  glances  interchanged  between 
the  three.  Bertha  went  up  to  her  gloomy  and  bare  attic 
with  a  sickness  at  heart  that  she  had  never  realized  before. 
She  saw  her  situation  was  hopeless,  unless  she  relied  upon 
her  own  bravery  and  cunning  to  improve  it.  Should  she 
run  away?  Her  pride  revolted  at  the  suggestion,  and  a 
thought  of  Mrs.  Wilmer's  malicious  tongue  held  her  unde- 
cided. But  then,  human  nature  could  not  endure  such 
imposition  and  misery  much  longer.  She  should  die  there, 
without  speedy  relief,  like  the  poor  girl  of  whom  Angeline 
Daveling  had  informed  her  —  die  there,  in  that  dismal  den, 
among  unfeeling,  cruel  strangers,  and  never  behold  her  dear 
parents  and  brother  again !  She  wrung  her  small  hands  in 
an  agony.  If  she  could  get  a  letter  to  some  one,  she  might 
be  rescued ;  but  that  was  impossible  —  she  was  wholly  in 
the  power  of  soulless,  mercenary  wretches.  Even  Edalia 
had  not  responded ;  doubtless  her  letter  had  been  read  by 
her  persecutors.  Bertha  knew  her  father  would  visit  her, 
without  some  satisfaction  from  the  Seminary ;  but  suspense 
was  killing  her  —  she  should  not  live  till  he  arrived.  She 
went  to  the  puny  looking-glass,  that  served  the  boarders  for 
a  mirror,  and  examined  her  face.  It  was  sunken  and  sallow, 
and  great  blue  rings  surrounded  her  heavy  eyes.  She  was 
walking  the  floor  in  a  state  of  distraction,  the  bitter  tears 
streaming  down  her  cheeks,  wdien  Mrs.  Browzer  entered  the 
attic-chamber  and  ordered  her  to  go  immediately  to  the 
school-room. 

Our  heroine  sobbingly  assured  her  she  was  "  too  sick  and 
miserable  —  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  study.  Please  ex- 
cuse her  to-day." 


72  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

Mrs.  Browzer  would  "do  no  such  thing.  It  was  her  duty 
to  see  that  Miss  Belmont  improved  her  time,"  (Bertha 
wished  she  would  be  as  careful  of  duty  in  other  respects,) 
"  she  would  not  have  such  foolishness  about  her  ;  she  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  such  childish  conduct."  (Bertha  thought 
Mrs.  Browzer  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  the  meanness  of  inter- 
cepting letters.) 

Rena  now  entered  to  second  her  mother,  which  she  did  in 
such  sharp  terms  that  Mrs.  Browzer  reproved  her  gently  for 
her  language. 

Rena  "  could  n't  help  it,  mother  ;  she  was  so  disgusted  to 
see  a  grown  young  lady  (our  heroine  was  sixteen  —  in  ap- 
pearance not  more  than  twelve)  conduct  herself  in  this 
manner.  She  ought  to  be  made  to  behave  herself,  and  go 
down  to  the  Academy." 

Rena  flounced  out  of  the  room,  with  a  scowl  upon  her 
brow,  and  her  stinging  words  rankling  in  a  yearning  and 
deeply  suffering  heart.  If  Rena  and  her  mother  had  uttered 
kind  and  sympathizing  words,  the  poor  heart  would  have 
been  comforted,  and  better  prepared  for  duty  ;  and  the  repu- 
tation of  their  Seminary  would  not  have  suffered  by  an  act 
to  which  their  heartlessness  impelled  our  heroine. 

Mrs.  Browzer  soon  followed  her  frowning  offspring,  with 
the  authoritative  declaration  that  Bertha  "should,  go,"  and 
commanded  her,  imperatively,  to  "prepare  herself  for  the 
school-room  instantly !  " 

Bertha  looked  at  her  as  she  went  out,  with  haughty  head 
high  up,  and  ribbons  fluttering  from  her  cap,  and  wondered 
if  that  woman  had  any  soulf  She  thought  it  possible  that 
a  just  and  righteous  God  might  have  created  some  human 
forms  destitute  of  an  immortal  principle,  knowing,  in  His 
infinite  wisdom,  they  would  be  damned  eternally  if  He  fa- 
vored them  with  a  spark  of  divinity. 

Bertha  only  partially  obeyed  Mrs.  Browzer  —  she  went, 


but  not  to  the  school-room.  She  went  from  her  dark,  cold, 
miserable  attic  in  the  direction  indicated  by  her  tormentor, 
and  she  never  returned.  Her  indecision  was  ended  —  her 
purpose  was  fixed.  She  would  have  died  in  the  woods,  sooner 
than  return  to  that  place  of  torment. 

Bertha  Belmont  was  a  timid,  retiring  girl  —  easily  led  by 
love,  birt  not  to  be  driven  by  harshness.  Her  sense  of  honor 
rendered  her  obstinate,  when  dealt  with  unjustly ;  but 
through  her  affections,  she  was  pliant  and  yielding  as  wax. 
She  was  too  quiet  and  reserved  to  be  easily  read.  Her  modest, 
gentle  deportment  gave  the  impression  of  cowardly  weakness, 
until  meanness  developed  her  latent  powers.  As  she  had 
written  to  Edalia,  she  " despised  meanness"  and  she  " could 
not  live  without  love."  Mrs.  Browzer  had  thought  to  frighten 
her  into  subjection.  She  discovered  her  error  when  too  late 
to  repair  it. 

Bertha  went  around  the  Academy,  instead  of  into  it.  It 
was  not  an  unusual  route  for  the  girls,  and  she  escaped 
observation.  She  went  on  and  on  soberly,  until  a  friendly 
hedge  shut  her  out  from  the  prison  she  had  left  forever; 
then  her  sober  pace  quickened  into  surprising  velocity.  On 
and  on  she  flew,  she  knew  not  whither  —  she  only  thought 
of  escape  from  the  lion's  den.  Our  brave  heroine  scrambled 
over  a  worm  fence,  and  found  herself  in  the  black  rim  of 
woods  that  had  so  long  shut  her  in  from  the  feeling  world. 
She  breathed  freer,  but  slackened  not  her  pace — she  was 
yet  too  near  the  dreaded  Institution. 

Bertha  was  on  the  point  of  congratulating  herself  upon 
her  escape,  when  —  horror  of  horrors!  —  she  found  she  had 
lost  a  prized  jewel,  containing  a  lock  of  precious  hair,  and 
her  feet  lost  their  swiftness  —  her  heart  sank  like  lead  in  her 
panting  bosom.  She  could  not  proceed  without  an  effort  to 
regain  it.  Night  was  coming  on,  and  the  woods  looked  dark 
and  gloomy,  but  our  heroine's  spirit  was  too  strong  to  suc- 
7 


74 

cumb  to  slight  difficulties.  Bertha  turned  to  retrace  her 
steps  in  search  of  the  lost  treasure.  She  had  been  taught 
from  babyhood  to  trust  in  an  overruling  Providence,  and  to 
.pray  to  "  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven ;  "  and  the  strongest 
and  most  comprehensive  language  she  could  command  came 
from  her  heart  as  she  petitioned  the  Lord  to  "  prosper  her 
way."  Bertha  had  well-nigh  despaired  of  success,  because 
of  the  thicket  through  which  she  had  passed,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  abandoning  the  search,  when  her  eyes  fell  upon  the 
prized  jewel  half  hidden  in  dry  leaves.  She  grasped  it 
eagerly,  and  her  small  feet  flew  onward  with  a  strength  and 
swiftness  that  would  have  astonished  one  who  beheld  her 
little,  sickly-looking  form.  Bertha  had  lost  time  to  make 
up,  and  she  made  it  with  deeper  gratitude  in  her  palpitating 
heart,  than  she  had  ever  felt  in  her  life  before.  On  and  on 
she  went  through  the  wild  woods,  firmly  believing  the  Lord 
would  lead  her  right,  since  He  had  providentially  returned 
her  treasure.  Finally  she  struck  into  a  pig-path —  she  knew 
not  where  it  might  lead,  but  she  followed  it ;  there  was  surely 
a  habitation  not  far  distant.  A  stately  residence  at  length 
shone  through  the  trees,  and  an  old  negro  in  an  ox-cart 
eyed  her  narrowly  as  she  followed  the  pig-path. 

Earnestly  as  she  longed  for  rest  and  shelter,  our  heroine 
had  not  one  thought  of  seeking  it  in  the  wealthy-looking 
mansion.  It  reminded  her  of  Mrs.  Wilmer's  home,  and  she 
felt  a  secret  conviction  she  would  find  no  sympathy  there. 
She  knew  not  how  far  she  had  come  from  the  hated  Semi- 
nary ;  perhaps  this  was  one  of  the  Browzer  associates,  who 
would  send  her  back,  if  she  applied  there  for  protection. 
She  quickened  her  steps  to  widen  the  distance  between  her 
and  the  aristocratic  residence.  The  little  path  led  into  the 
highway.  She  looked  around  her  on  all  sides  with  mortal 
fear  lest  she  should  encounter  the  Doctor  or  Mr.  Wetter. 
Either  would  have  been  fatal. 


75 

Bertha  longed  for  one  glimpse  of  an  humble-looking  house 
—  a  low  brown  house  with  a  long  piazza,  would  have  over- 
joyed her  anxious  heart.  She  did  not  believe  all  the  rich 
to  be  destitute  of  sympathy  and  human  kindness :  Mr.  Red- 
mond and  Dr.  Montrose  were  shining  exceptions.  Neither 
did  she  think  all  the  poor  were  generous  and  good  :  Dr. 
Browzer's  family  were  sufficient  proofs  to  the  contrary.  But 
in  her  friendless  and  forlorn  condition,  our  heroine  would 
rather  trust  to  an  humble  home  for  comfort  and  security. 
And  such  a  home  now  presented  itself  to  her  faded  brown 
eyes.  Bertha  approached  it  fearlessly,  with  a  presenti- 
ment of  good. 

A  mild-eyed,  matronly  woman  received  her  kindly,  and 
listened  to  the  story  our  heroine  related,  with  evident  sym- 
pathy in  her  motherly  eyes. 

"  Poor  thing ! "  were  her  first  words,  as  the  young  girl 
ended  the  tale  of  her  wrongs  and  sufferings  at  the  Seminary, 
and  asked  for  shelter  and  protection. 

Our  heroine's  firmness  deserted  her  at  the  voice  of  kind- 
ness, —  she  broke  completely  down,  and  cried  for  very  joy. 
A  feeling  of  home,  so  long  a  stranger  to  her  heart,  came 
over  her  warmly  at  the  motherly  sound. 

Mrs.  Davin  soothed  her  with  true  womanly  kindness,  and 
Bertha  grew  calm  and  strong  beneath  the  reviving  influence 
of  a  sympathizing  soul.  The  good  lady  promised  her  pro- 
tection, until  Mr.  Belmont  could  be  advised  of  her  situ- 
ation . 


76  BERTHA;    THE    BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

PROVIDENCE   SMILES   ON    OUR   HEROINE. 

THE  Davin  family,  to  whose  care  a  kind  Providence  had 
led  our  friendless  and  homeless  heroine,  consisted  of 
five  members  —  parents,  two  children,  a  son  and  daughter, 
and  a  young  grandson,  whose  mother,  the  daughter  of  Ber- 
tha's kind  friends,  slept  quietly  beneath  the  green  coverlet 
of  Spring. 

Mr.  Davin  was  a  generous  -  hearted,  humorous  man,  of 
much  wealth  and  little  show.  Bertha  was  surprised  to  find 
there  were  far  greater  riches  in  the  unassuming  home  she  had 
chosen  than  in  the  stately  mansion  she  had  shunned.  She 
learned  also  that  the  inmates  of  that  imposing  residence  were 
associates  of  the  Browzer  family,  who  would,  undoubtedly, 
have  returned  her  to  her  den,  had  she  applied  to  them  for 
protection.  Like  the  Browzers,  they  were  people  who  made 
a  desperate  effort  to  "  keep  up  appearances,"  and  such  per- 
sons invariably  possess  a  lean  soul.  People  of  fallen  for- 
tunes, arising  from  extravagance  or  intemperance,  starve 
the  mind  to  tinsel  the  body;  while  honorable  persons  in 
reduced  circumstances  accommodate  themselves  to  their 
condition,  and  wear  an  exterior  corresponding  with  their 
depleted  purse.  Bertha  shuddered  at  the  bare  thought  of 
the  great  house,  with  its  superficial  occupants  that  she  had 
providentially  shunned. 

Dr.  Davin,  the  son,  had  but  recently  returned  from  col- 
lege. His  manly,  generous  face  bore  ample  testimony  to 
his  relationship  with  the  noble  woman  who  had  received  and 
comforted  our  unhappy,  absconded  heroine.  His  mild  blue 
eyes  filled  with  sympathizing  tears  as  he  listened  silently  to 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  77 

the  story  of  the  poor  girl's  sufferings  at  the  Seminary  re- 
hearsed by  Mrs.  Davin.  Bertha  felt  sure  of  protection  from 
her  enemies,  as  she  looked  upon  the  firm,  yet  feeling  face  of 
the  true-hearted  young  doctor. 

But  for  one  circumstance,  which  remains  to  be  revealed 
in  the  future,  our  young  heroine's  grateful  and  susceptible 
heart  would  have  remained  in  the  home  of  her  newly  found 
friends,  when  her  wasted  form  and  wan  face  had  passed  from 
it  forever.  But  Bertha  Belmont  was  not  one  to  change 
easily.  Love  with  her  was  not  merely  one  of  life's  incidents* 
but  the  epoch  of  an  existence. 

Lily  Davin  was  her  brother's  peer,  and  worthy  of  her  pa- 
rentage. Lily  had  been  a  pupil  at  the  Seminary,  and  could 
vouch  for  Bertha's  veracity  from  actual  experience.  Bertha 
learned  more  of  the  Browzer  antecedents  and  surroundings, 
and  the  reputation  of  their  Seminary,  than  she  had  known 
when  she  assumed  the  responsibility  of  taking  French  leave 
of  it.  Providence  could  not  have  directed  her  to  a  better 
or  more  desirable  refuge,  than  the  unassuming  home  of  the 
wealthy  family,  who  scorned  superficial  show,  and  hypo- 
critical pretenders.  Bertha  also  found  she  had  run  two 
miles  through  wild,  strange  woods,  to  escape  the  cruelties  of 
a  fashionable  boarding-school. 

They  were  on  the  eve  of  retiring  the  first  night  of 
Bertha's  unceremonious  introduction  to  the  amiable  family, 
when  a  loud  fist-knock  at  the  door  of  the  country  home, 
summoned  Mr.  Davin  ;  and  our  heroine  caught  the  words 
from  the  new-comer : 

"  Is  ye  got  ary  strange  young  leddy  wid  ye,  massy?" 
Bertha's  face  grew  whiter  —  her  faith  failed  her,  momen- 
tarily ;  but  a  glance  at  her  friends  reassured  her. 

The  old  negro,  sent  out  from  the  Seminary  in  search  qf 
the  missing  pupil,  followed  Mr.  Davin,  tq  the  parlor-door, 
and  poked  his  black  head  through  to  observe  Bertha. 


BEAUTY. 

"  Yes,  sah  ;  dat  's  de  young  leddy,  shore  !  Done  run  off 
'bout  two  'clock  frum  de  Sem'na'  fur  sart'n,  massy !  We 
niggers  bin  lookin'  arter  'er  ever  sense  school  broke,  sah ; 
mighty  big  fuss  up  dare  'bout  'er,  fur  shore  !  " 

His  white  eyes  and  teeth  shone  brightly,  with  a  broad, 
satisfied  smile. 

Bertha  did  not  recognize  the  old  man,  but  she  requested 
him  to  inform  her  friends  at  the  Institution  that  she  was 
both  safe  and  well,  and  to  feel  no  further  concern  about  her, 
for  she  would  never  return  to  the  Seminary  alive.  The  old 
negro  responded  : 

"  Yes,  Miss,  I  '11  tell  'em  dat  same.  I 's  mighty  glad  I 
done  foun'  ye,  honey,  fur  shore  !  "  He  ducked  his  black 
head,  and  pulled  his  forelock  respectfully,  and  smilingly 
disappeared. 

Bertha  slept  sweetly  under  Mr.  Davin's  hospitable  roof 
that  night,  with  a  heart  full  of  gratitude  to  God  for  the 
friends  He  had  raised  up  to  her  in  a  time  of  sorest  need, 
and  a  fervent  prayer  upon  her  pale  lips  for  those  dear,  kind 
friends. 

Next  morning  early,  Dr.  Browzer  presented  himself  at 
Mr.  Davin's,  and  requested  an  interview  with  his  late  pupil. 
Bertha  trembled  universally  as  Mr.  Davin  informed  her 
of  the  visitor's  desire.  She  had  not  anticipated  this  ;  she 
now  feared  being  taken,  vi  et  armis,  back  to  the  hated  Semi- 
nary, and  begged  to  decline  the  interview. 

"  Don't  you  be  afraid,  child,"  said  the  good  old  man  ;  "  he 
shan't  take  you  out  o'  my  house,  while  I  'm  in  it,  by  jing ! 
Nobody  shall  have  you  against  your  will,  till  your  father 
comes,  as  sure 's  you  're  born.  I  '11  see  you  through  all 
right — by  the  land  !  " 

Thus  encouraged,  our  heroine  accompanied  her  protector 
into  the  visitor's  presence. 

Dr.  Browzer  received  her  politely  and  even  kindly ;  and 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  79 

rallied  her  upon  her  surreptitious  departure  from  his  pre- 
mises. He  endeavored  to  convince  her  of  the  impropriety 
of  the  step  she  had  taken,  and  to  prevail  upon  her  to  return 
with  him. 

Bertha  firmly  declined  the  urgent  invitation,  and  gave 
her  objections  to  his  proposition,  bravely  supported  by  the 
proximity  of  smiling  Mr.  Davin. 

Dr.  Browzer  could  not  controvert  her  assertions,  but 
essayed  to  invalidate  her  arguments  by  adverting  to  her 
imperilled  reputation,  (Bertha  wondered  if  he  did  not  mean 
to,) — he  affirmed  that  should  be  a  sufficient  incentive  to 
duty,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  a  little  personal  feeling. 

Our  heroine  smiled  at  the  word  "duty,"  so  religiously 
recommended  to  her  by  those  who  had  neglected  it  them- 
selves. She  seriously  doubted  if  it  were  her  "  duty  "  to  sacri- 
fice happiness  and  life  solely  to  advance  the  interest  of  those 
who  had  trampled  upon  principle,  and  thought  only  of  profit. 

Bertha  informed  him  she  "was  entirely  willing  to  risk  the 
consequences  of  the  step  she  had  taken.  To  remain  at  the 
Seminary  would  be  of  no  benefit  to  her  whatever,  as  her 
wretched  health  rendered  it  impossible  for  her  to  make  any 
advancement  in  her  studies.  She  could  not  live  through  the 
session  without  some  care  for  her  present  condition." 

Dr.  Browzer's  diplomacy  had  failed  signally,  and  he  now 
changed  his  tactics.  He  advised  her  "to  accompany  him 
to  the  Institution,  and  he  would  inform  her  father  of  her 
declining  health  and  desire  to  return  home.  As  Mr.  Bel- 
mont had  confided  her  to  his  care,  it  was  proper  that  he 
should  return  her  to  him." 

Bertha  smiled  in  her  sleeve,  and  wondered  "if  her  face" 
was  so  simple  as  to  induce  the  supposition  that  she  could  be 
entrapped  by  such  a  bait.  She  was  surprised  that  a  man 
of  his  age  should  angle  in  clear  water,  without  being  par- 
ticularly careful  to  conceal  his  hook ! 


80  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

She  "  preferred  remaining  in  her  present  home  until  her 
father  came,  as  she  found  it  more  pleasant  than  the  one  she 
had  left.  Had  her  letters  been  received  by  her  friends,  she 
would  not  have  been  subjected  to  the  necessity  of  leaving 
the  Seminary  secretly.  Perhaps  the  mails  might  fail  to 
carry  his  letter  to  her  father,  as  they  had  hers  ;  and  in  such 
an  event  she  would  be  better  content  among  her  new-found 
friends." 

Dr.  Browzer  winced,  but  yielded  the  point  at  discretion. 
His  late  pupil  was  incorrigible,  and  safely  intrenched 
behind  friends  more  powerful,  in  every  respect,  than  him- 
self. He  remained  to  breakfast,  and  departed,  unregretted 
by  all  he  left  behind.  He  promised  Mr.  Davin  to  convey 
intelligence  to  Mr.  Belmont. 

The  good  old  man  applauded  her  bravery,  and  laughed 
at  the  Doctor's  defeat.  The  kind  family  enjoyed  the  scene 
enacted  by  the  proprietor  of  La  Violet  Seminary  and  his 
invulnerable  pupil  of  former  days,  reproduced  by  its  face- 
tious head,  for  their  amusement,  with  characteristic  humor. 

They  were  peaceful,  pleasant  days  our  heroine  passed  in 
the  home  to  which  a  merciful  Providence  had  directed  her. 
She  was  no  longer  pinched  with  hunger  and  frozen  with 
heartless  indifference ;  but  it  was  long  months  ere  she  re- 
covered from  the  effects  of  a  heart  left  to  desolation.  Her 
whole  nature  was  love,  and  without  its  healthful  influence 
she  would  soon  wither  and  die. 

Mr.  Belmont  was  startled  by  the  ravages  of  disease  made 
in  the  appearance  of  his  daughter  by  a  few  weeks'  experi- 
ence in  a  "fashionable  boarding-school."  Bertha  thought 
heaven  had  come  down  to  earth  when  she  found  herself  once 
more  in  the  safety-ark  of  her  father's  arms. 

Dr.  Davin  accompanied  Mr.  Belmont  to  the  Seminary 
upon  his  arrival  at  Bertha's  refuge,  and  was  besieged  by 
Lily  upon  his  return. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  81 

Dr.  Bavin  was  a  quiet,  amiable  man,  with  a  keen  sense 
of  the  ludicrous  underlying  a  calm,  dignified  exterior.  His 
cool,  undemonstrative  manner  of  relating  an  incident  gave 
double  point  to  a  sarcastic  thought. 

"Did  you  enter  the  Institution?"  inquired  Lily,  with  a 
sparkle  in  her  mild  eye  as  it  looked  into  her  brother's. 

"No;"  laying  his  head  back  with  a  queer  expression 
about  his  manly  mouth  ;  "  we  preferred  the  porch, —  the 
evening  was  fine." 

"Then  you  did  n't  see  the  ladies?"  said  Lily. 

"Oh,  yes,"  —  caressing  his  firm  mouth  with  finger  and 
thumb  to  smooth  out  an  incipient  smile;  "they  honored  us 
with  their  presence  upon  the  porch,  and  also  gave  us  an 
invitation  from  the  key-board  to  enter  the  parlor,  which  the 
balmy  air  induced  us  to  decline.  Splendid  piece  it  was, 
though  ;  I  saw  Fanny  Ellsler  dance  it  in  Philadelphia." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  The  Cachuca." 

"  Then  you  heard  Madge  talk,  of  course  ?  " 

"I  did." 

"  What  did  she  say  ?  "  laughed  Lily. 

"She  said,"  laying  his  head  back  and  turning  up  his  eyes, 
soberly,  "  '  Oh,  what  a  beautiful  night  we  are  going  to  have ! 
The  moon  begins  to  shed  its  influence  already ! ' " 

"  Why  that  was  simplicity's  self  to  Madge's  usual  style," 
said  Lily,  with  a  merry  laugh. 

"  Yes,  but  the  loud,  rostrum  tone  and  manner  in  which 
it  was  declaimed  rendered  it  graceful  and  grandiloquent." 
The  incipient  smile  leaped  into  full  birth  upon  the  young 
doctor's  handsome  mouth,  and  his  fine  blue  eyes  expressed 
volumes  of  unspoken  thought,  more  amusing  to  the  observer 
than  the  oral  language. 

"  She  talked  like  a  lawyer,"  said  Mr.  Belmont,  alluding 
to  Mrs.  Browzer;  "  F  faith,  one  would  think  from  her  tone 

F 


82  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

of  injured  innocence  that  my  daughter  was  the  most  un- 
grateful imp  alive  to  desert  such  a  delightful  home  and  lov- 
ing friends  as  she  found  at  the  Seminary !  I  should  think 
so,  judging  from  her  appearance!"  he  growled,  indignantly. 

Bertha  bade  adieu  to  her  kind  friends  with  genuine 
regret,  and  left  the  vicinity  of  her  late  purgatory  with  no 
lingering  desire  ever  to  behold  it  again.  Dr.  Davin  accom- 
panied them  some  miles  on  their  homeward  route,  and  they 
said  farewell  for  many  long  years. 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  laughed  Mr.  Redmond,  as  the  story  ended, 
"and  so  we'll  have  the  blue-eyed  JEsculapius  fluttering 
around  here  before  shortly,  —  I'll  bet  two  chincapins,  by 
Jupiter ! " 

Bertha  blushed  painfully ;  the  crimson  flush  mantled 
both  cheek  and  brow,  and  even  tinged  her  small  ears.  Her 
confusion  was  so  apparent  that  it  communicated  itself  to 
the  observer,  and  the  old  man's  kind  heart  assisted  her  to 
recover  from  the  overwhelming  effect  of  his  badinage.  He 
never  alluded  to  the  doctor  again  in  Bertha's  presence.  Her 
extreme  sensibility  at  her  tender  age  surprised  him. 

"  I  say,  Ed,"  said  Mr.  Redmond,  as  they  wended  home- 
ward, "  Bertha 's  in  love,  and  my  jig 's  up  —  by  Jupiter ! " 

Edalia  laughed  at  the  serio-comic  expression  of  his  face ; 
she  knew  he  was  jesting  with  his  gray  hairs. 

"  I  really  believe  so,  uncle ;  but  I  seriously  doubt  if  it 's 
with  the  doctor." 

"Who  the  deuce  then?" 

"  Esquire  Redmond,  perhaps." 

"  Get  out ! "  he  snarled,  with  a  queer  compression  of 
the  softened  mouth. 

"  He,  he !  "  giggled  Dora  Wilmer,  "  Bertha  Belmont's  run 
away  —  he,  he  !  " 

Dora  had  dropped  in  at  Dr.  Montrose's  the  evening  sub- 
sequent to  our  heroine's  return  home.     Minnie  snapped  out, 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  83 

regardless  of  her  visitor's  feelings  and  politeness  under  her 


-© 
own  roof: 


"  Yes,  and  you  would  have  done  the  same,  if  you  had  the 
bravery  that  Bert 's  got !  " 

Dora  was  so  chagrined  at  this  well-merited  rebuke,  that 
she  burst  into  tears  like  an  angry  child,  and  flirted  out  to 
the  carriage,  with  the  terrible  threat  that  she'd  "tell  her 
ma  ! " 

"I  don't  care  if  she  never  comes  again,"  said  indignant 
Minnie  to  the  gratified  Edalia;  —  "she  's  got  no  soul,  any- 
how, and  the  whole  family 's  just  so,  setting  aside  the  Colonel. 
He  'a  worth  the  whole  tribe,  (and  goodness  knows  there  're 
enough  of  them  !)  All  they  possess  in  the  round  world  is 
in  their  pocket  —  they  haven't  anything  in  their  heads,  the 
Lord  knows !  They  're  stingy  as  sin,  and  all  you  hear  in 
their  houses  is  'money'  and  'Thomsonian  medicine' !  " 

Edalia  laughed  outright;  and  Mr.  Redmond,  with  a  jerk 
of  one  leg  to  shake  down  his  trousers,  said,  with  a  chuckle : 

"  They  may  say  what  they  please  of  Bert,  I  glory  in  her 
spunk  —  by  Jupiter ! " 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

WALTER   ELDON's   ADVENT.  —  EDALIA's   DREAM. 

IT  was  a  busy  day  at  Mr.  Redmond's.  There  was  the 
little  chamber  adjoining  the  old  man's  to  prepare  for 
AValter,  and  Aunt  Cora  bustled  about,  brimful  of  impor- 
tance aud  satisfaction. 

"Lor'  bless   yer  heart,  honey!    I  ain't   bin   so  glad   I 
dunno  when!      Mars  Wallie  was   oilers  sich  a   nice   boy. 


84  BERTHA 

Four  years  is  a  mighty  long  time.  I  'spect  'e  won't  hardly 
know  old  Aunt  Cory  what  used  fur  ter  steal  biscuits  out  'n 
the  oven  fur  you  an'  him  'fore  they  was  good  an'  done.  Lor' 
bless  'is  blue  eyes !  Aunt  Cory  ain't,furgot  'im  yit  —  how  'e 
used  fur  ter  buy  'er  terbaeker  when  she  had  n't  a  blessed 
red  cent  ter  he'p  'erse'f  wid.  He's  pine  blank  like  's 
mother,  too ;  an'  'e  's  boun'  ter  come  ter  some  good.  Boys 
as  favors  their  mothers  is  born  ter  ,good  luck.  I  oilers 
knowed  it  —  an'  now  'e's  gwine  ter  be  a  big  lawyer  —  ki !  " 
and  Aunt  Cora  scrubbed  industriously  the  little  chamber- 
floor  until  a  spot  of  tarnish  would  have  been  a  phenomenon. 

Recent  events  had  rendered  Edalia  inquisitive  on  some 
points  relative  to  Walter's  parents,  that  she  had  heretofore 
been  regardless  of,  and  she  inquired : 

"Tell  me  of  Walter's  father,  aunty,— where  did  he  die?" 

"  Lor'  bless  yer  heart,  honey,  he  ain't  dead  yit,  not 's  I 
knows  on  —  'cep'  brandy's  carred  'im  off!  He  used  fur 
ter  be  a  mighty  hard  drinker  in  Miss  Evy's  day ;  an'  arter 
she  died,  po'  thing,  he  jes'  turned  out  an'  drunk  an'  gambled 
all  'is  fortin  away,  an'  then  he  went,  too,  —  the  Lord  in 
heab'n  knows  whar,  —  I  don't.  He  used  fur  ter  be  a  mighty 
rich  man,  when  Miss  Evy  marred  'im  —  rich  as  Kresus  — 
an'  a  pooty  man  'e  was,  too.  But  Miss  Evy  did  n't  want 
'im  —  she  had  ter  have  'im,  though  —  po'  thing  !  " 

"  Why  did  she  have  to,  aunty  ? " 

"  I  dunno,  honey.  Some  folks  ses  how  'er  pa  fooled  'er 
'bout  bein'  broke,  an'  ef  she  did  n't  have  Mr.  Eldon  'e  'd 
kill  'isself.  But  I  dunno  nothin'  'bout  it,  honey,  on'y  she 
pined  'way  arter  it,  an'  died  when  Mars  Wallie  was  a  little 
baby  —  po'  thing !  " 

Walter's  father  yet  living !  Here  was  a  mystery  ;  and 
Edalia  resolved,  with  a  spirit  of  newly  awakened  curiosity, 
to  probe  it  to  the  bottom.  She  knew  the  early  history  of 
Walter,  —  that  her  own  sainted  mother  had  adopted  him, 


85 

after  the  death  of  Mrs.  Eldon ;  and  when  she  became  an 
orphan,  they  both  passed  under  the  guardianship  of  Mr. 
Redmond  ;  but  Edalia  had  been  taught  to  regard  him  as  a 
fatherless  boy. 

The  dreaded  day  at  length  dawned— a  clear,  blue  Sep- 
tember morning,  dreamy  and  languid  with  the  faint  breath 
of  fading  flowers,  and  the  low  hum  of  golden-winged  bees, 
sunning  and  sipping  the  nectar-drops  in  the  consumptive 
hearts  of  autumn  blossoms.  It  waned  slowly,  and  "  now 
came  still  evening  on,  and  twilight  gray  had,  in  her  sober 
livery,  all  things  clad." 

The  finishing  touch  had  been  given  to  Walter's  chamber, 
—  for  Edalia  prided  herself  on  her  housekeeping  qualities, 
so  frequently  commended  by  her  uncle,—  and  they  sat  at 
the  parlor-window,  looking  out  for  the  carriage,  and  listen- 
ing to  catch  the  distant  rumble  of  its  revolving  wheels,  as  it 
bore  Walter  homeward  from  Enfield. 

Edalia  said,  quietly : 

"Adopting  the  language  of  Joseph  to  his  brethren,  allow 
me  to  ask,  uncle,  '  doth  Walter's  father  yet  live  '  ?  " 

He  turned  upon  her  a  searching  glance. 

"  And  why  this  inquiry  now, -Ed  ?  " 

"  I  have  casually  learned,  sir,  that  his  death  is  problem- 
atical." ? 

Edalia  detected  a  lurking  smile  in  his  large  blue  eyes, 
and  grew  warm  in  consequence.     He  answered : 

"  I  can  give  you  no  positive  assurance,  but  the  prevailing 
belief  founded  upon  circumstantial  evidence,  is,  that  Wal- 
ter's father  has  long  filled  an  inebriate's  grave." 

Edalia  forbore  further  interrogations. 

"  Hit 's  cummin',  master!  "  shouted  little  Dick,  springing 
through  the  gate,  and  turning  a  somerset  on  the  green 
grass;  then  hurling  his  wool  hat  aloft,  he  caught  it  on  his 


86  BEETHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

toes,  and  shot  off  to  enlighten  the  occupants  of  the  kitchen 
department. 

Mr.  Redmond  hurried  out  as  the  vehicle  drew  up,  and 
received  the  descending  form  of  a  tall  young  man  in  his  ex- 
tended arms.     Edalia  wondered  at  such  manifest  affection. 

Aunt  Cora  poked  her  black  head,  enveloped  in  a  snow- 
white  'kerchief  with  a  tremendous  bow  in  front,  into  the 
parlor  as  the  two  gentlemen  advanced,  and  whispered,  ex- 
citedly : 

"  Lor'  bless  yer  heart,  honey,  how  'e  is  growed !  —  taller  'n 
marster  'e  is  —  ki !  "  and  she  made  a  precipitate  exit,  as 
footsteps  sounded  on  the  piazza,  and  voices  came  floating  up. 

Edalia  rose,  as  her  uncle  entered  the  apartment,  and 
stood  face  to  face  with  Walter  Eldon,  after  a  separation 
of  four  years;  but  what  a  change  had  those  four  years 
wrought ! 

He  advanced  smilingly  and  with  extended  hand ;  Edalia 
had  thought  to  welcome  him  with  sisterly  feeling  and  frank- 
ness, but  an  indefinable  emotion  possessed  her,  as  she  looked 
up  into  those  full  and  fathomless  blue  eyes,  and  she  received 
him  with  dignified  restraint,  shrinking  instinctively  from 
the  soft  touch  of  his  lips  upon  her  forehead. 

Mr.  Redmond  dropped  into  his  old  arm-chair,  with  a  non- 
chalance that  indicated  perfect  satisfaction  with  himself, 
"all  the  world,  and  the  rest  of  mankind;"  while  Walter 
took  possession  of  one  hard  by,  designated  by  the  forefinger 
of  the  old  gentleman ;  and  Edalia  stole  out  to  superintend 
the  tea-board. 

She  was  busily  employed  thereat,  when,  looking  up,  she 
observed  the  tall  form  of  the  young  man  towering  in  the 
doorway,  his  earnest  eyes  bent,  half  mournfully,  upon  her 
flushed  face.  He  went  slowly  up  to  her  and  extended  his 
hand.  She  laid  hers  nervously  upon  the  soft,  warm  palm, 
and  his  fingers  closed  gently  but  firmly  around  it. 


BERTHA,  THE    BEAUTY.  87 

"Miss  Redmond  !  —  sluill  I  address  you  by  that  cold  and 
formal  title?" 

11  No,  no  !  call  me,  as  in  the  years  gone  by,  Walter.  Why 
should  we  not  be  as  then  ? " 

"  There  is  no  cause  for  change,  Edalia;  but  your  cool  re- 
ception and  reserved  air  inspired  the  fear  that  change  had 
come  over  ©ne  —  but  not  my  heart." 

"Nor  mine,  Walter.  I  have  ever,  and  shall  always 
cherish  for  you  the  affection  of  a  sister." 

His  clasp  suddenly  tightened  and  relaxed  as  if  involun- 
tarily ;  then  gently  releasing  her  hand,  he  stood  in  momen- 
tary silence  with  folded  arms. 

Edalia  had  never  seen  him  look  so  handsome.  His  curl- 
ing chestnut-hair,  changing  and  glittering  in  the  lamplight, 
was  swept  gracefully  back,  from  a  broad,  high,  and  deli- 
cately white  forehead,  the  veined  purity  of  which  a  city 
belle  might  have  envied.  The  pink  of  the  sea-shell  mantled 
his  cheeks — once  round,  but  now  evincing  the  unwearied 
student ;  and  his  eyes  — those  large,  soft  blue  eyes,  compar- 
able to  nought  but  the  liquid  heavens  of  a  clear,  mellow 
sunset  in  balmy  June  —  were  expressive  of  sunshine  and 
shadows  commingled  in  the  depths  of  the  soul. 

"  Thank  you,  Edalia  —  dear  sister  ;  whatever  fate  has  in 
store  for  us  in  years  that  may  come, —  whatever  separate  re- 
lations we  may  bear  in  the  dim  future,  —  may  the  unfading 
freshness  of  our  happy  and  confiding  childhood  days  ever 
be  the  one  green  spot  in  memory's  waste." 

He  turned  to  go,  as  Aunt  Cora  entered  with  both  hands 
well  laden  with  tea-service,  which  she  hastened  to  put  down 
in  order  to  grasp  his  proffered  hand. 

"  God  bless  ye,  Mass  Wallie!  I 's  so  glad  I  dunno  what 
ter  do,  ter  see  ye  back  safe  an'  sound  ergin  !  Lor'  bless  yer 
heart,  honey,  I  ain't  eat  nuthin'  in  a  week  hardly,  was  so 
full  o'  glad  ter  think  ye  was  comin'  back !    But  I  gwine  ter 


88  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

make  up  for  los'  time  ter-night,  though  —  'deed  I  is, 
honey!"  and  she  wiped  her  wet  eyes  with  the  corner  of  her 
check  apron. 

Walter's  eyes  moistened  as  he  listened  to  the  expressions 
of  delight  from  the  faithful  and  affectionate  old  servant, 
and  replying  to  her  artless  demonstrations  to  her  entire 
satisfaction  and  admiration,  he  hurried  away. 

Aunt  Cora  poured  out,  to  her  young  mistress,  profuse 
praise  of  the  "  dear,  pooty  boy." 

Dr.  Montrose,  Minnie,  Charles  Chester,  and  Bertha  Bel- 
mont gathered  around  the  cheerful  hearth  of  Mr.  Redmond 
that  night.  All  was  mirthful  and  gay,  save  the  hidden 
heart  that  wildly  throbbed  beneath  the  dark  bodice  of 
silently  suffering  Edalia. 

A  song  was  called  for.  Walter  led  Miss  Redmond  to  the 
piano;  Charles  tossed  the  blue  ribbon  of  the  guitar  over  the 
bright  brown  curls  of  his  affianced,  and  gallant  Uncle  Ned 
escorted  our  heroine  to  the  melodeon.  They  played  and 
sang  in  concert,  the  gentlemen  supplying  a  deep,  rich  bass. 

Mr.  Redmond  laid  his  hand  jocosely  upon  Walter's 
shoulder,  as  the  music  ceased  and  the  performers  rose. 

"  Come,  sir,  we  wait  your  lordship's  favor.  A  young 
gentleman  fresh  from  Randolph,  deficient  in  such  an  es- 
sential accomplishment,  ought  to  be  arrested  on  the  ground 
of  false  pretences,  and  deprived  of  his  blazing  diploma ! " 

With  a  mysterious  smile,  the  young  man  turned  silently, 
and  walked  deliberately  to  the  piano.  To  the  infinite  sur- 
prise of  all,  and  the  delight  of  Mr.  Redmond,  he  dashed 
off  a  simple  prelude  with  graceful  accuracy,  and  sang  to  an 
accompaniment  the  sweet  and  plaintive  air,  "  Oft  in  the 
stilly  night."  As  the  last  note  died  softly  away,  Mr.  Red- 
mond queried  : 

"Where  learned  you  this  science,  young  man?" 

Walter  glanced  mischievously  up  : 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  89 

"  At  college,  sir." 

"  The  deuce  you  did  !     And  the-  teacher  wore  boots  and 
whiskers,  we  are  to  understand?" 
"  No,  sir ; 

•A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned, 
To  warn,  to  comfort,  and  command.'" 

"  Ah  !  you  young  scapegrace !  —  been  falling  in  love,  eh  ?  " 

A  wave  of  crimson  rolled  over  the  young  man's  face,  and 
rippled  off  under  the  rings  of  nut-brown  hair,  leaving  his 
face  pale  and  inflexible  as  marble. 

Minnie  gave  Edalia  a  sorrowful  glance,  which  she  returned 
with  a  glad  smile. 

A  shadow  rested  upon  Mr.  Redmond's  brow  as  the 
"good  night"  was  uttered,  and  Edalia  went  up  to  her 
chamber. 

Di  rolled  herself  up  on  the  hearth-rug,  and  very  speedily 
a  heavy  sound  issued  from  the  heap  that  assured  her  young 
mistress  of  her  utter  obliviousness;  and  Edalia  —  the  petted 
child  of  fortune  —  envied  the  poor  slave,  so  humble  and 
ignorant. 

The  hot  blood  burned  in  her  veins,  and  her  brain  throbbed. 
There  was  no  necessity  for  restraint  now,  and  she  threw  her- 
self on  the  bed  and  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears.  She  wept 
long  and  freely,  till  the  footsteps  of  her  uncle  and  Walter, 
ascending  the  stairs,  roused  her,  and  she  rose  to  prepare  for 
the  night. 

Mr.  Redmond  had  evidently  recovered  his  wonted  cheer- 
fulness ;  he  chatted  gayly  with  his  companion  as  they 
passed,  and  his  merry  laugh  grew  distant  as  the  chamber- 
door  shut  them  in. 

As  Edalia  bound  back  the  long  black  ringlets  with  which 
nature  had  crowned  her,  from  her  swollen  eyes  and  flushed 
face,  a  queer  smile  came  over  the  features  reflected  in  the 

6* 


90  BERTHA,    THE     BEAUTY. 

mirror  before  her.  Her  eyes  had  fallen  upon  a  little  dress- 
ing-case, the  gift  of  Mr.  Redmond  on  her  seventeenth  birth- 
day. It  was  composed  of  rosewood  banded  with  pearl, 
cushioned  with  crimson  velvet,  and  surmounted  by  a  pure, 
white,  transparent  shell,  on  which  glistened  the  golden  ini- 
tials W.  E. ;  and  she  smiled  at  the  prediction  of  the  bug- 
oracle,  now  that  she  felt  there  was  a  duplicate  barrier  to  its 
fulfilment.  A  secret  spring  revealed  a  tiny  cell,  containing 
a  sealed  missive,  addressed  "  To  Edalia  Redmond,  my 
darling  niece,"  and  was  disclosed  to  her  with  the  words: 

"  Promise  me,  Edie,  that  you  will  never  possess  the  secret 
herein  contained  until  I  am  no  more,  or  grant  you  per- 
mission." 

"  I  do  promise,  uncle." 

"Enough,  my  child;  I  confide  implicitly  in  your  inte- 
grity." 

A  wayward  spirit  now  possessed  Edalia,  and  she  lifted  it 
from  its  hiding-place.  Did  it  concern  her  ?  She  would  have 
given  much  in  her  restless  state  to  read  the  secret  story  ;  but 
the  memory  of  her  sainted  mother,  and  her  early  teachings, 
"  Thou  God  seest  me,"  as  she  knelt  in  infancy  at  her  knee, 
with  her  loving  hand  upon  her  little  head,  came  over  the 
yearning  child,  and  she  dared  not  violate  the  vow.  She 
returned  the  letter  to  the  little  case,  and  retired  to  rest. 
She  slept  and  dreamed  :  She  wandered  with  Minnie  on  the 
verge  of  a  frightful  precipice.  Flowers  of  richest  hue  and 
luxuriance  bloomed  profusely  around,  and  the  atmosphere 
was  heavy  with  perfume.  Bird-songs  drifted  on  waves  of 
sunny  air,  and  echoed  in  the  dark  wild  cavern  below.  A 
blossom  of  rare  beauty  attracted  her  eye,  and  she  leaned 
over  to  gather  it  from  the  side  of  the  chasm.  Minnie 
bounded  forward,  and  merrily  plucked  it  from  beneath  her 
hand;  but  the  fang  of  a  serpent  was  thrust  into  her  delicate 
finger  as  she  snapped  the  slender  stem.     Faint  with  pain 


91 

ami  fright,  Minnie  tottered  over  the  awful  steep!  Edalia 
grasped  her  arm  as  she  descended,  and  falling  upon  the 
frightful  verge,  held  her  light  form  suspended  in  mid-air, 
and  screamed  in  agony  and  horror. 

She  knew  not  from  whence  he  came,  but  a  strong  arm 
was  thrown  firmly  around  her,  and  Walter  Eldon  drew 
them  both  from  the  frightful  gulf! 

Edalia  awoke,  and  started  up  with  a  shudder.  It  was 
morning  —  clear,  calm,  and  sun-bright. 

She  made  a  hasty  toilet,  and  descended  to  the  parlor.  Mr. 
Redmond  received  her  with  his  usual  morning  salute.  His 
round,  rubicund  face  was  radiant  with  good-humor,  and  his 
big  blue  eyes  were  brimful  of  sparkles. 

"Just  as  I  insinuated,  Ed;  the  boy  is  six  feet  in  love, 
sure  enough  !  and  now  we'll  have  a  wedding  by-and-by,  and 
the  deuce  will  be  to  pay  !  Kiss  her,  Wall,  —  she  's  only  a 
8isier,  you  know." 

Edalia  submitted  quietly  to  the  process,  and  felt  his  lips 
quiver  slightly,  as  he  pressed  them  warmly  upon  her  cheek. 
Did  he  fancy  he  wronged  the  loved  one  far  away  ? 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 
Minnie's  bridal. — she 

IT  was  the  bridal  eve  of  Minnie  Montrose.  The  heavens 
were  dull  and  leaden-hued,  and  a  drizzling  rain  made 
mist- wreaths  upon  the  window-panes,  as  Edalia  Redmond 
stood  alone  in  her  chamber,  looking  at  the  illuminated 
mansion.  She  was  repeating,  mentally,  the  lines  of  poor 
Byron  — 


92  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"And  fiends  might  pity  what  I  feel, 
To  know  that  thou  art  lost  forever!  " 

as  an  expression  of  her  own  sensations,  when  the  door 
opened  and  widow  "Wilraer  entered. 

Edalia  and  Bertha  were  among  the  six  chosen  brides- 
maids, and  the  fair  widow  had  kindly  volunteered  to  pre- 
side at  the  toilet  of  Mr.  Redmond's  niece. 

Widow  Wilnier  was  a  handsome  woman  of  thirty-three, 
reduced  in  circumstances  through  the  intemperance  of  her 
lost  liege,  and  the  mother  of  five  badly  disciplined  responsi- 
bilities. The  fair  widow  was  amiable  outwardly,  with  a 
leaning  towards  the  rich  that  rendered  her  often  unjust  to 
the  poor  when  the  two  came  in  contact,  and  charity  de- 
manded an  equal  distribution  of  her  favors;  and  rumor 
whispered  the  wealthy  got  more  than  their  share.  She 
coveted  praise,  and  gave  alms  to  receive  it ;  but  those  who 
penetrated  beneath  the  surface  of  mere  seeming,  were  re- 
minded of  St.  Paul's  declaration,  "  sounding  brass,  or  a 
tinkling  cymbal."  She  was  related  to  the  "  money,"  and 
"  Thomsonian  medicine  "  tribe,  but  an  old  feud  had  long 
separated  the  relatives.  She  was  sly  and  supercilious,  with 
a  shining  tissue  of  sanctimony  thrown  over  to  soften  her 
salient  points.  Bertha  Belmont  had  felt  the  distinction  the 
fair  widow  made  between  the  favored  of  fortune  and  the 
poor  in  purse. 

Judging  from  various  womanly  wiles  and  gentle  arts, 
Mrs.  Wilmer  would  willingly  have  borne  to  Edalia  Red- 
mond the  interesting  relationship  of  aunt,  could  her  con- 
firmed old  bachelor  uncle  have  been  induced  to  "  see  it  in 
that  light." 

Edalia  had  often  wondered  at  his  predilection  for  single 
blessedness,  but  no  banterings  thereupon  could  elicit  aught 
pertaining  to  the  past,  or  reveal  the  curtained  mysteries  of 
the  soul's  inner  sanctuary. 


BERTHA,    Til  E     B  E  A  U  T  Y  .  93 

Edalia  stood  passively  as  the  long  black  ringlets  drifted 
one  by  one  from  the  white  fingers  of  the  smiling  widow,  and 
floated  in  inky  waves  over  her  neck  and  shoulders.  The 
delicate  snowy  wreath  was  twined  above  cheeks  scarcely  less 
white,  and  the  sacrifice  was  prepared. 

Walter  looked  earnestly  into  the  young  girl's  eyes,  as  they 
ascended  to  the  bridal  chamber. 

"Are  you  ill,  Edalia?" 

"  No  —  thank  you." 

Minnie  was  radiant  with  smiles  and  blushes,  and  Charles 
looked  stately  and  triumphant,  as  he  stood  in  the  midst  of 
that  brilliant  and  gay  assembly,  and  vowed  eternal  love  and 
protection  to  the  fragile  form  that,  dove-like,  trembled  at 
his  side.  The  seal  of  the  marital  compact  was  set  upon  her 
rosy,  smiling  lips,  and  Minnie  Montrose  was  merged  into 
the  life  and  destiny  of  Charles  Chester. 

Peterroy  Simpkins'  round  form  at  length  became  visible 
among  the  crowd,  enveloped  in  a  bran  new  suit  of  the  latest 
Broadway  "agony."  He  advanced  toward  Walter,  who 
stood  beside  Edalia  and  Bertha,  with  a  most  graceful 
inclination  of  his  little  shiny -head,  and  drew  off  a  delicate 
white  kid  with  sovereign  grace  and  ecstasy. 

"  Mr.  Eldon,  I  have  the  supreme  felicity  and  honor  of 
extending  this  palm  of  unequivocal  friendship,  after  the 
lapse  of  many  successive  annual  rotations.  Permit  me,  sir, 
to  express  my  unfeigned  emotions  of  gratification  for  the 
inestimable  privilege  of  welcoming  you  back  from  a  remote 
citadel  of  inculcation,  after  your  temporary  sojourn  with  all 
the  pristine  genuineness  of  adolescence  ;  for  verily,  sir,  vera 
amicitia  est  sempiterna.  —  I  have  recently,  sir,  revelled  in  the 
rainbow  radiance  of  sublime  Niagara,  with  its  organ  tones 
and  startling  splendor,  and  perambulated  the  labyrinthine 
aishs  of  babel  Gotham,  or  it  would  have  been  my  delightful 
prerogative,   ere   this   enchanting   hour,  to   vociferate   my 


94  BERTHA 

enthusiastic  desire  for  the  renewal  of  long  dormant  associa- 
tions of  amity." 

The  little  lord  drew  himself  up  with  a  regal  air,  as  he 
concluded  his  eloquent  declaration,  and  deigned  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  Edalia's  presence  by  a  slight  and  supercilious 
shake  of  his  systematically  arranged  curls. 

He  had  evidently  not  forgiven  her  rejection  of  the  honor 
he  would  so  condescendingly  have  conferred  upon  her. 

Mirth  and  music  floated  from  many  a  ruby  lip ;  "  the 
merry  dance  went  round,  and  joy  w7as  unconfined."  The 
sparkling  wine  painted  a  brighter  rose  upon  youthful 
cheeks,  and  lent  unusual  lustre  to  beaming  eyes. 

A  goblet  of  crimson  liquid  deepened  and  flashed  in  the 
hands  of  the  happy  bridegroom. 

"  A  health  to  the  beautiful  bride !  "  echoed  many  voices, 
as  he  placed  it  untasted  upon  the  board. 

"  No  !  I  've  forsworn  the  sparkling  bowl !  —  it  is  easier  to 
resist  than  reform.  'Lead  me  not  into  temptation,  but 
deliver  me  from  evil.'  " 

A  peal  of  merriment  greeted  this  remark.  Charles  stood 
calm  and  unaffected ;  but  the  rich  blood  mounted  to  Min- 
nie's brow,  and  she  placed  the  glass  in  the  hand  of  the 
bridegroom  with  an  inviting  smile ! 

Edalia  and  Bertha  exchanged  reproachful  glances,  and 
observed  Walter  start,  slightly.  He  bent  over  and  said, 
lowly,  but  earnestly: 

"  Charles,  beware !  " 

The  bridegroom  turned  to  his  adviser. 

"  Years  have  passed  since  I  drank  of  the  fruit  of  the 
vine,  but  I  obey  the  behest  of  my  fair  bride." 

Walter  grew  white  as  the  glass  sent  up  its  empty,  silvery 
ring,  as  Charles  replaced  it  upon  the  board.  The  two  girls 
caught  the  low  sad  voice  of  Walter,  as  they  turned  away, 
whispering  in  the  ear  of  the  smiling  bride : 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  95 

"  'He  that  soweth  the  wind,  shall  reap  the  whirlwind  ! '  " 

A  shadow  flitted  over  her  young  face,  and  she  threw  after 
him  a  wistful,  remorseful  glance. 

Peter  stepped  forward,  his  cheeks  flushed  to  an  unnatural 
brilliancy,  and  all  the  dignity  of  Chesterfield  thick  upon 
hi.<  squat  person. 
.  "  Mr.  Eldon,  the  honor  of  a  glass  with  you." 

"Pray  exonerate  me,  Mr.  Simpkins;  my  total  abstinence 
principles  must  be  my  apology." 

Peter  "  grew  small  by  degrees,  and  beautifully  less,"  as 
he  shrank  back  among  the  gay  group. 

Edalia  caught  the  eye  of  Charles  Chester  at  the  close  of 
the  evening.  It  was  bright  and  burning,  and  a  spot  of 
crimson  glowed  on  either  cheek. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE  DESERTED  HOMESTEAD.  —  MISS  AGXES  BENTLEY. — 


WIXTER  passed  quietly  away,  and  with  it  Mr.  Belmont 
and  family.  Mr.  Belmont  received  an  urgent  call  to 
the  Williamsville  Academy  —  the  place  of  our  heroine's 
nativity  —  and  joyfully  Mrs.  Belmont  prepared  to  abandon 
the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza.  It  passed  into 
the  hands  of  a  Wilmer. 

Bertha  was  now  seventeen,  and  very  beautiful ;  child- 
like, in  her  delicate  proportions;  the  admiration  of  the 
opposite  sex,  and  envy  of  her  own.  Mr.  Belmont  procured 
her  an  elegant  piano  —  much  handsomer  and  finer-toned 
than  Mrs.  Wilmer's  highly-prized  instrument ;  —  and  though 
destitute  of  a  teacher,  Bertha's  perseverance,  together  with 


96 

Minnie's  and  Eclalia's  kindness,  had  rendered  our  heroine 
far  superior  to  Dora  as  a  performer,  when  she  bade  adieu  to 
the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza,  and  went  back, 
half  sorrowfully,  to  the  place  of  her  birth. 

Bertha  yearned  to  see  more  of  the  wide  world  she  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  in  the  clouded  mirror  of  romances  and 
through  the  clearer  microscope  of  the  many  journals  and 
specimen  copies  of  magazines  that  crowded  her  father's 
office,  and  which  she  had  devoured  with  avidity ;  but  the 
pleasurable  anticipations  of  exchanging  a  quiet  country  life 
for  one  more  alive  with  interest  and  excitement,  amid  the 
changing  panorama  of  every-day  experience,  were  saddened 
by  the  reflection  of  a  necessary  separation  from  her  two 
young  friends  —  Minnie  Chester  and  Ed  alia  Redmond. 

They  wandered  through  the  gold-  and  crimson-crowned 
October  woods,  and  talked  over  the  coming  separation ; 
speculating  upon  Bertha's  future,  out  in  the  great,  gay 
world ;  and  under  the  old  maple,  by  the  little  spring, 
where  so  many  bright,  happy  hours  of  childhood  had  been 
passed,  they  made  solemn  promises  of  regular  correspondence 
and  unchanging  affection. 

Notwithstanding  Minnie's  long-ago  declaration  that  she  'd 
"  warn  Bert  never  to  marry  a  Yankee,"  she  had  never  found 
courage  sufficient  to  perform  the  promise.  She  knew  Bertha's 
love  and  reverence  for  her  father,  and  with  all  her  inde- 
pendence and  impulsiveness  she  could  not  look  into  the 
clear  depths  of  those  truthful  brown  eyes,  and  insinuate 
against  the  honor  and  honesty  of  the  people  to  whom  Mr. 
Belmont  belonged.  Minnie's  scorn  for,  and  abuse  of, 
Yankees,  never  found  words  in  our  heroine's  presence. 

And  so  she  went  from  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long 
piazza,  all  unthinking  of  the  fears  that  followed  her.  with  a 
longing  and  pain  in  her  youthful  heart  —  a  soul  reaching 
after  something  that  was  lost  away  in  the  years  gone  by. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  97 

Would  it  ever  be  found?  She  looked  after  the  old  home- 
Itead,  with  its  time-stained  palings  and  moss-covered  roof, 
with  yearning  in  her  dark  eyes,  until  the  thick  grove  shut 
it  away  from  her  mourning  sight.  Her  yearning  gaze  went 
by  the  old  homestead,  down  the  years  —  three  years  by-gone 
—  and  she  bade  it  a  silent  farewell  as  "the  dear  old  place 
where  first  they  met."  Bertha  carried  in  her  hidden  heart 
I  secret  that  was  destined  to  live  alone  and  unsuspected 
through  long,  weary,  and  suffering  years  to  come ! 

Bertha  was  gone  ;  Minnie  was  married  ;  and  Edalia  Mas 
alone  in  her  chamber,  restless  and  sad.  Mr.  Redmond  and 
Walter  were  absent.  The  cool  breeze  lifted  the  window- 
drapery,  and  a  light  from  Minnie's  apartment  flashed 
through.  The  idea  occurred  to  her  of  whiling  away  the 
tedium  of  a  long  May  evening  w7ith  the  young  and  cheerful 
wife  —  cheerful,  but  not  as  in  other  days.  Her  gushes  of 
wit  and  mirth  seemed  forced  and  foreign,  and  her  liveliest 
sallies  appeared  tinctured  with  languor  and  weariness. 
Aunt  Cora  remarked  the  evident  change,  and  one  day  ex- 
claimed: 

"I  dunno  what's  come  ter  Miss  Min,  honey.  She  ain't 
like  'erse'f,  somehow-.  I  dunno  why,  though,  fur  Mars 
Charles  is  a  mighty  pooty  man,  an'  'pears  so  'fectionate  like  ; 
but  'pend  'pon  it,  honey,  she  ain't  happy!" 

Edalia's  thoughts  went  back  a  few  months,  as  she  sat 
there  and  looked  over  at  the  light  glimmering  from  the 
young  wife's  chamber. 

The  village-teacher  wedded  during  the  winter,  and  a  new 
one  was  to  be  procured.  Walter  Eldon  guaranteed  to  sup- 
ply the  vacancy  with  a  competent  successor. 

The  morning  subsequent  to  this  discussion  and  decision 

relative  to  the  subject,  Edalia  approached  the  news-stand  to 

deposit  a  letter  for  the  post,  when  her  attention  was  arrested 

by  a  delicate  missive  bearing  Walter's  superscription,  and 

9  G 


98  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

addressed  to  "  Miss  Agnes  Bentley,  Richmond,  Virginia." 
Unconsciously  she  repeated  it  aloud,  when  two  hauds  were 
laid  clumsily  upon  her  shoulders,  and  a  jovial  voice  be- 
trayed "Uncle  Ned's"  proximity.  Edalia  started,  ner- 
vously, and  felt  the  warm  current  rushing  rapidly  up. 

"  Why,  hey-day,  young  lady  !  —  what  the  deuce  !  —  red 
as  a  beet,  by  Jupiter !  " 

"  No  wonder,  uncle,  considering  the  provocation." 

"Fiddlesticks! — didn't  used  to  be  so  scary!  What's, 
the  trouble,  eh  ?  Hallo !  what 's  here  ?  "  —  and  he  picked 
up  Walter's  letter. 

"  Confound  'er !  "  ejaculated  the  old  gentleman,  with  a 
corrugated  brow,  but  a  twinkle  of  mirth  that  lingered 
about  his  compressed  lips  as  he  scrutinized  the  envelope ;  — 
"  confound  'er !  I  '11  bet  two  chincapins  that 's  Wall's  music 
divinity,  and  the  bug  's  a  loyal  descendant  of  one  of  Ahab's 
prophets  — blast  it !  " 

Little  Dick  fortunately  protruded  his  round  head  into  the 
hall. 

"Please,  sir,  Mars  Wallie  say  'e  wants  ter  see  ye  in  de 
office." 

Edalia  escaped  further  tortures,  and  soon  observed  them 
galloping  swiftly  away. 

Two  weeks  after,  as  Edalia  sat  in  the  piazza  one  quiet, 
early  twilight,  amid  the  floating  fragrance  of  thick,  golden 
jessamine- blossoms,  and  sparkling  spring  roses,  nodding 
and  swaying  in  sweet  low  gushes  of  evening  winds,  looking 
over  at  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza,  and 
dreaming  of  far-away  Bertha,  a  heavy  rumble  came  drifting 
down  the  broad  white  road,  and  soon  a  dusty  and  spattered 
carriage  came  rolling  on. 

Walter  sprang  from  the  office-door  at  the  sound,  followed 
by  Mr.  Redmond,  and  strode  rapidly  to  the  gate.  A  white 
handkerchief  waved  from  the  carriage-window  as  it  passed 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  99 

the  young  man,  who  followed  swiftly  to  the  low  brown  house 
with  the  long  piazza,  the  temporary  home  of  Agnes  Bentley. 

Mr.  Redmond  went  slowly  up,  and  threw  himself  down 
Inside  Edalia,  with  a  mortified  air. 

"She's  come,  Ed — the  little  gipsy  —  confound  'er!" 

"  Who  has  come,  uncle  ?  You  speak  enigmatically.  I 
don't  comprehend." 

"  Why,  Wall's  music  divinity  —  Agnes  Bentley  —  the 
school-marm  —  little  witch  — be  hanged  to  'er !  Should  Ve 
thought  the  boy  might  've  got  in  love  nearer  home.  For  my 
part,  I  think  there  are  as  good-looking  girls  hereabouts  as 
in  foreign  parts  ;  but  de  gustibus  non  disputandum.  You 
look  sorry,  Ed  ?  " 

"Me? —  no  indeed,  sir!  I  don't  care  a  fig  about  it. 
It 's  of  no  consequence  to  me  whom  the  young  gentleman 
fancies." 

There  was  a  clear  glitter  of  something  inexplicable  in  his 
smiling  eyes,  as  he  turned  silently  away  and  passed  into 
the  hall. 

The  succeeding  day  was  a  still,  sunshiny,  and  lovely 
Sabbath.  Edalia  walked  to  church  with  Mr.  Redmond. 
Glancing  at  Minnie's  pew,  she  met  her  eye,  which  directed 
her  in  an  opposite  quarter.  Following  the  indication,  she 
encountered  the  large,  deep  orbs  of  Walter  Eldon.  Beside 
him  sat  a  fair,  sweet  girl  robed  in  deep  mourning.  Her  eyes 
were  bent  upon  her  hymn-book,  and  the  long  lashes  that  fell 
thickly  over  them,  pencilling  her  pure  white  cheeks,  were 
deep  black  and  silky,  giving  her  youthful  face  a  pensive 
and  highly  interesting  expression.  Her  wealth  of  pale, 
wavy,  browTn  hair  was  put  plainly  back  over  a  smooth, 
round  forehead  in  light,  numerous  braids.  She  lifted  the 
dark  fringe  of  those  veined  lids  as  Edalia  gazed  upon  her, 
and  a  pair  of  mild  dewTy  hazel  eyes  unveiled  their  hidden 
loveliness. 


100  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY, 

Mr.  Redmond  bent  down,  and  whispered  in  Edalia's  ear : 

"  No  wonder  Wall  loves  her !  " 

But  what  had  become  of  Minnie's  beauty?  The  bril- 
liancy was  gone  from  her  eye,  and  her  round  cheek  had  lost 
its  plumpness  and  bloom. 

Dr.  Montrose,  too,  appeared  moody  and  dejected  ;  Charles 
alone  retained  all  the  vestiges  of  his  former  self. 

Edalia  returned  to  her  quiet  chamber,  and  fell  into  a 
train  of  restless  reflections  and  surmises,  from  which  the 
dinner-bell  aroused  her.  She  descended.  Mr.  Redmond  and 
Walter  awaited  her,  and  they  passed  into  the  dining-room. 

"And  so,  Wall,"  commenced  Mr.  Redmond,  —  "  and  so, 
Wall,  that 's  your  inamorata,  eh  ?  A  deuced  pretty  girl,  by 
Jupiter !  I  '11  bet  two  chincapins,  I  get  a  kiss  from  her  red 
lips  in  less  than  a  week  o'  Sundays,  and  cut  you  out  yet, 
boy  !  I  say,  Ed,  is  n't  she  handsome,  or  '  harnesome,'  as 
the  Yankees  say  —  eh  ?  " 

"  Very." 

"Humph!  short  as  pie-crust,  by  Jupiter !  But  tell  us,  Sir 
Walter,  wTho  and  what  she  is  —  your  Virginia  blossom  ?  — 
because,  as  that  same  Yankee  I  've  just  quoted  from,  says, 
I  want  tew  know  ! " 

"  The  daughter  of  a  broken  merchant,  sir,  upon  whose 
exertions  an  invalid  mother  and  three  young  children  are 
dependent.  Our  acquaintance  was  purely  fortuitous.  We 
met  at  the  mansion  of  a  wealthy  citizen  of  Richmond,  she 
acting  in  the  capacity  of  music  instructress  to  his  daughters. 
Her  history,  as  related  by  the  benevolent  millionaire,  en- 
listed my  sympathies,  and  I  sought  her  residence  and 
patronized  her." 

"  And  fell  in  love  upon  the  strength  of  it,  without  even 
a  'by  your  leave,  Uncle  Ned,'  eh?" 

Edalia  stole  a  glance  at  Walter  to  mark  his  expression, 
and  caught  his  eye  askance  in  her  direction.     The   rich 


BEAUTY.  101 

blood  rushed  to  his  brow,  and  her  own  cheeks  burned  from 
the  detection.  The  color  receded  swiftly  from  his  face,  and 
the  same  rigid  and  marble  appearance  she  had  once  before 
observed  became  visible  in  his  features. 

Mr.  Redmond  noted  the  change,  and  made  no  further 
allusion  to  the  lovely  stranger. 

Aunt  Cora  overheard  this  conversation,  and  with  all  the 
sagacity  of  her  race  failed  not  to  comment  upon  it  at  the 
earliest  possible  convenience. 

"  Lor'  bless  your  heart,  honey ! "  she  exclaimed,  the  in- 
stant the  door  closed  upon  the  retiring  gentlemen,  "  I  never 
did  see  a  boy  love  hard'r  'n  Mars  Wallie !  The  very  name 
on  'er  cullers  'm  up  ter  'is  yers !  I  used  ter  think  you  was 
boim'  ter  be  'is  bride  —  'specially  when  the  snail  writ  in  de 
plate.  I  never  knowed  snails  ter  fail  'fore  ;  but  all  signs 
fails  in  dry  weather,  honey ;  an'  't  was  a  mighty  dry  time 
las'  May,  shore  'nuff,  chile !  I  does  wish,  Mars  Wallie  'd 
never  gone  ter  Rando'f,  'cause  den  'e  would  n't  never  seed 
'er,  honey  !  "  and  Aunt  Cora  sighed,  dolefully. 

To  dissipate  the  vague  and  indefinable  feelings  of  gloom 
that  pervaded  her  as  she  retrospected  the  past,  Edalia  threw 
on  a  light  shawl,  and  started  for  the  Doctor's.  With  ac- 
customed freedom  she  entered  the  hall  without  premonition 
and  proceeded  towards  Minnie's  apartment ;  but  high  tones 
arrested  her  as  she  advanced,  and  inadvertently  she  hesi- 
tated and  caught  the  words : 

"  Pshaw !  a  woman's  everlasting  tears  are  enough  to  drive 
a  man  to  the  devil !  You  need  n't  sit  up  for  me,  as  I  have 
an  appointment  that  may  perhaps  detain  me  till  a  late  hour. 
If  you  are  lonely,  send  for  Edalia." 

"  Edie  is  a  dear,  good  friend,  but  no  society  can  com- 
pensate me  for  the  loss  of  yours.  For  my  sake,  don't  go, 
Charles." 

"  When  will  you  have  done  with  such  nonsense,  Minnie  ? 
9* 


102  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Do  you  suppose  I  'm  going  to  be  held  in  leading-strings 
eternally,  and  mope  down  here  with  a  silly  woman,  when 
I  've  an  engagement  that  demands  fulfilment  to-night?" 

"  Time  was,  Charles,  when  no  society  was  preferable  to 
mine  —  when  you  thought  it  not  irksome  to  pass  a  quiet 
evening  alone  with  me.  It  is  not  that  I  would  deprive  you 
of  enjoyment,  Charles,  but  that  I  would  have  you  avoid 
temptation." 

"Temptation  be !    If  I  have  become  a  slave  to  the 

wine-cup,  it  was  you  who  wound  the  first  coil  of  thraldom 
around  me  !  You  should  not  reproach  me  for  becoming  a 
proficient  under  your  own  teaching !  " 

"Oh,  Charles,  if  repentant  tears  could  efface  the  memory 
of  that  act,  it  would  long  ago  have  been  obliterated  from  sad 
remembrance !  Let  me  not  have  the  misery  of  seeing  you 
sink  into  ruin  and  degradation  through  my  agency,  Charles ! 
1  have  atoned  for  the  past  by  bitter  remorse  and  anguish ! 
Promise  me,  Charles,  to  resist,  to-night,  the  insidious  wiles 
of  the  destroyer  to  indemnify  me  for  your  absence." 

"No;  I  leave  you  to  the  indulgence  of  your  own  pro- 
pensities, and  claim  the  same  privilege,  by ! " 

"Oh,  Charles,  Charles,  you  are  breaking  —  my — heart!" 
and  a  deep  sob  burst  from  the  poor  weeper. 

Hasty  footsteps  approached  the  door.  Edalia  retreated 
across  the  hall,  and  shrank  back  into  the  parlor  as  Charles 
Chester  issued  from  the  apartment,  and  strode  out  into  the 
night. 

And  this  was  her  idol !  The  object  of  so  many  sweet 
dreams  and  secret  sighs !  Edalia  shuddered,  and  thanked 
the  omniscient  Being  for.  frustrating  every  hope  of  her  girlish 
heart  associated  with  Charles  Chester. 

Tremblingly  she  crept  from  her  concealment,  and  went 
softly  to  the  door ;  but  the  query  arose,  "  should  she  leave 
Minnie  thus  alone  and  wretched  ?  "     She  went  deliberately 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTV.  103 

buck,  and  passed  into  the  young  wife's  chamber.  She  lay 
upon  a  sofa,  unconscious  of  her  friend's  presence,  her  slight 
form  quivering  with  agitation,  and  the  fair  curls  falling  in 
careless  clusters  over  her  face  and  arm.  Edalia  went  softly 
and  knelt  beside  her. 

"Minnie  dear." 

She  started  up,  and  a  deep  flush  swept  over  her  tearful 
face. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  've  come,  Ed.  I  was  just  going  to  send 
for  you.  Charles  is  gone,  and  papa,  and  I've  made  ac- 
quaintance with  the  vapors  to-night.  But  sit  down  here,  Ed, 
and  we  '11  demolish  the  fortress  of  Major  Blue,  and  make  him 
prisoner  of  war  with  a  good,  merry  chat  as  in  the  olden 
time!" 

And  she  laughed  gayly,  with  the  large  liquid  tears  swim- 
ming in  her  languid  blue  eyes. 

Edalia  struggled  to  repress  emotion,  and  enter  cheerfully 
into  her  assumed  mood ;  but  her  thin  face,  smiling  through 
tears  of  heart-sorrow  to  conceal  the  worthlessness  of  him 
who  had  crushed  her  once  glad  spirit,  subjugated  her  firm- 
ness, and  she  dropped  her  head  upon  the  sofa-cushion  and 
burst  into  tears. 

Minnie  fell  back  with  a  low,  heart-broken  cry,  and 
throwing  an  arm  over  her  friend's  neck,  laid  her  young 
head  beside  Edalia's,  and  indulged  unrestrainedly  in  the 
luxury  of  tears.     She  sobbed  : 

"  Edie,  why  do  you  weep  ?  We  have  been  friends  from 
childhood  ;  let  nothing  part  us  now." 

"For  you,  Minnie!  I  mourn  for  the  destruction  of  all 
your  fairy  dreams  and  brilliant  hopes  !    I  know  all,  Minnie." 

She  hid  her  face  and  was  silent,  while  a  faint  rose  tinge 
fluttered  over  her  fair  neck. 

"  It  was  my  duty  to  conceal  his  defects.  You  don't  cen- 
sure me  for  want  of  confidence,  Edie  ?  " 


104         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  No,  Minnie ;  I  honor  the  motive  that  withheld  that  con- 
fidence. But  now,  you  will  let  me  share  your  sorrows,  and 
sympathize  in  all  your  future  sufferings,  dear  girl  ? " 

"  Oh,  Edie,  I  am  unworthy  of  your  love  —  of  his !  I 
have  wrought  my  own  misery,  and  his  ruin  !  I  tempted 
him,  and  he  fell !  But  I  could  not  endure  their  derision  ;  I 
trusted  in  his  strength  and  was  deluded,  and  now  we  are 
drifting  out  on  the  wide  dark  sea,  far  from  the  shore  of, 
Hope ! " 

"  Be  composed,  Minnie ;  all  hope  is  not  lost.  I  see  a  star 
shining  through  the  clouds,  and  its  golden  ray  may  guide 
you  back  into  the  haven  of  repose, 

'With  truth  undimmed  within  thy  breast, 
Bear  on,  and  leave  to  God  the  rest.'  " 

She  grew  gradually  calm  and  confiding,  as  in  childhood 
days,  and  Edalia  learned  that  Charles,  in  his  boyhood,  was 
wont  to  indulge  in  the  intoxicating  bowl,  till  his  mother, 
on  her  death-bed,  extorted  from  him  a  promise  of  reforma- 
tion, which  was  preserved  inviolate  until  his  wedding  eve ; 
and  the  glass,  proffered  by  the  fair  hand  of  his  smiling 
bride,  was  but  the  prelude  to  an  anthem  of  woe ! 

"  It 's  almost  as  bad  as  marrying  a  Yankee,  Ed ! "  was 
her  closing  remark,  while  smiles  and  tears  struggled  for 
supremacy  in  her  faded  blue  eyes. 

"  That  reminds  me  of  what  I  had  forgotten.  I  have  a 
letter  from  Bertha,  Minnie." 

"  Poor  Bert !  I  wish  I  had  warned  her  before  she  went. 
From  the  tone  of  her  correspondence,  I  fear  it  is  too  late 
now." 

"  It  is  too  late,  Minnie ;  the  engagement-ring  is  on  her 
finger,  and  yet  —  " 

"And  yet  she  don't  love  him,  Ed,  —  I  can  see  that ;  and 
she  will  awake  to  the  sad  truth  when  too  late  for  her  future 


105 

happiness — poor  Bert!  She  will  be  the  unresisting  victim 
of  a  father's  prejudice  and  an  idolized  brother's  influence ! 
1  said  it  years  ago  — I  only  hope  she  will  fly  at  the  last  I " 

"No!  she  will  be  led  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter !  She 
loves  and  reverences  her  father,  and  will  sacrifice  herself  to 
obey  his  will.  I  wish  he  understood  her  better ;  for  she  is 
so  shy,  even  her  father  has  failed  to  sound  the  great  deep  of 
her  nature,  if  indeed  he  ever  made  the  effort.  He  is  a 
strange  man  —  good-natured,  easy,  and  honest,  and  thinks 
his  judgment  a  sphere  higher  than  the  rest  of  mankind's, 
and  will  have  his  way  in  matters  that  concern  others  of  his 
household  more  intimately  than  himself.  I  wish  such  people 
would  mind  their  own  business,  or  live  as  single  as  St.  Paul, 
all  their  days.  He  will  suffer  severely,  if  she  marries  his 
choice,  with  no  choice  of  her  own,  for  he  loves  her,  and  will 
be  punished  for  his  present  influence  by  witnessing  her  fu- 
ture unhappiness." 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  've  heard  it  said  that  Yankees  are  glad 
to  get  rid  of  their  children  on  any  terms ;  and  that  accounts 
for  the  surprising  number  of  divorces  in  Yankeedom  con- 
tinually. The  marriage-vow  up  there  is  about  as  binding 
as  the  one  our  darkies  make  when  they  jump  over  a  broom 
into  the  uncertain  state  of  matrimony.  If  it  doesn't  suit 
all  parties,  they  wipe  out  the  landmark  with  the  sponge  of 
a  very  convenient  law,  and  take  another  leap  into  the  same 
state,  but  from  a  different  point  of  the  compass.  Their 
constant  practice  does  n't  recognize  the  higher  law  that  St. 
Paul  refers  to,  and  which  governs  our  Southern  people. 
"Who  ever  heard  of  a  divorce  being  applied  for  in  this  part 
of  the  moral  vineyard  ?  " 

"  I  never  did." 

"  No,  and  never  will  —  until  Pilgrim  Rock  is  floated  by 
'Northern  enterprise'  down  the  Atlantic  and  landed  on  the 
cuast  of  Pamlico   Sound,  and  the  principles  that  inhere 


106         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

become  a  permanent  institution  in  the  South !  If  the 
Northern  States  are  so  much  superior  to  ours  in  morals  and 
manners,  why  do  Yankees  set  in  a  full  tide  towards  the 
tropics  ?  You  never  meet  with  a  Yankee,  but  he  is  inces- 
santly lauding  up  the  North  to  the  detriment  of  the  South. 
Mr.  Belmont  one  day  boasted  of  his  native  State  as  the 
1  land  of  steady  habits,'  and  I  told  him,  politely,  I  did  n't 
question  the  appropriateness  of  the  term,  since  it  certainly 
required  very  '  steady  habits '  to  make  wooden  nutmegs  and 
peg  wheat  sufficient  for  Yankee  peddlers  to  supply  the 
South  with  seed,  since  he  had  no  manufactories  in  operation 
for  that  laudable  purpose." 

"You  didn't,  Min!" 

"  I  did  —  he  kindled  just  fire  enough  in  my  Carolina  con- 
stitution to  give  him  a  brand ;  and  he  was  so  easy  tempered 
that  he  laughed,  and  said  I  was  '  smart  enough  to  be  a  Yan- 
kee,'— hum !  I  informed  him  I  was  not  aware  that  'smartness' 
was  limited  by  geographical  boundaries  ;  but  if  it  were,  and 
the  intellectual  chain  lay  around  free  soil  to  the  exclusion 
of  other  territory,  I  was  both  willing  and  anxious  to  take 
my  chance  outside  of  the  line." 

Edalia  threw  her  head  upon  the  sofa-arm  and  laughed 
until  the  shadows  fled  from  Minnie's  thin  face,  and  the 
olden  brightness  came  back  to  her  blue  eyes. 

"  I  never  could  endure  a  Yankee  —  they  have  tormented 
the  South  long  before  my  day,  and  are  likely  to  continue 
the  persecution  so  long  as  slavery  exists,  until  we  enact  a 
law  prohibiting  Northern  feet  upon  Southern  soil.  Just 
think  of  the  horrors  of  Cross  Keys  through  the  instiga- 
tion of  Northern  men.  And  all  for  what?  To  free  our 
negroes,  and  take  their  place.  If  they  are  so  philanthropic 
and  love  the  darkies  so,  why  do  they  let  fugitive  slaves 
suffer  from  neglect  and  indifference  when  they  escape  from 
their  masters  and  fly  to  them  ?     It 's  an  old  and  true  say- 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  107 

ing  that  'actions  speak  louder  than  words.'  And  now, 
poor  Bert  is  going  to  marry  one  of  the  Yankee  tribe,  and  a 
stranger  at  that !  With  her  capacity  for  loving,  and  true 
Southern  principles,  what  a  life  of  yearning  and  struggling 
is  before  her,  if  she  unites  her  destiny  with  one  of  an  un- 
congenial spirit.  And  Horace  Stanhope  is  not  of  her  kind, 
or  her  letters  would  breathe  a  far  different  tone.  I  know 
her  heart  is  not  at  rest,  with  all  her  admiration  of  his  beauty 
and  full  conviction  of  being  adored  — poor  Bert !  " 

"  No,  not  at  rest,  Minnie  ;  that  is  evident.  Peter  Simp- 
kins  has  just  returned  from  Williamsville,  where  he  has 
been  attending  court.  He  visited  Bertha,  and  gives  not  a 
very  cheering  account  of  her  appearance.  He  says  she  is 
smiling  and  sociable  as  in  other  days,  but  there  is  a  deep- 
seated  sadness  in  her  brown  eyes  —  a  frequent  introversion 
that  pains  the  observer.  Her  rare  beauty,  he  says,  'has 
turned  the  world  upside-down  ; '  the  fame  thereof  has  spread 
far  and  wide,  and  hosts  of  '  lovers  around  her  are  sighing/ 
Mr.  Belmont  favors  the  Yankee  suitor,  who  is  remarkably 
handsome,  and  devoted  to  his  beautiful  fiancee  —  and  the 
marriage  is  soon  to  be  consummated.  But  here  is  Bertha's 
letter,  Minnie ;  read  the  poor  girl's  fate." 


CHAPTER  XX. 


MAY  is  here  —  May,  with  her  lovely  blue  eyes,  golden 
smiles,  and  blossom-scented  breathings.  Sweet,  sunny- 
browed  May !  She  is  beautiful,  and  softly  wooing  as  '  in  the 
days  when  we  went  gipsying  a  long  time  ago  ; '  but  —  but  I 
do  not  enjoy  her  light  and  loveliness  as  in  those  peaceful,  by- 


108 

gone  days,  dear  Edie.  A  change  —  a  great  change  has  come 
over  the  spirit  of  my  dreams,  since  that  far-away  time.  I 
say  far  away,  for  I  seem  to  have  lived  a  weary  lifetime  since 
I  cast  a  longing,  lingering  look  behind  at  the  low  brown 
house  with  the  long  piazza. 

"  Only  four  months  have  been  unlinked  from  the  year 
and  left  upon  the  way-side  of  the  past,  since  we  said  fare- 
well ;  and  yet  I  have  lived  on  and  on  seemingly  through 
years  of  change  and  decay,  down  even  to  old  age.  I  do 
not  know  —  I  cannot  tell  how  far  away  in  the  dim  distance 
the  days  of  childhood  look  to  retrospection's  eye.  It  seems 
a  long,  long  way  back  as  I  sit  here  in  the  fair  light  of  a  fresh 
May-morning,  and  reach  after  the  buried  blessings  that  will 
never  come  again  from  the  days  that  dropped  silently  along 
the  pathway  of  the  Past. 

"  I  used  to  yearn  for  the  great  world  that  glimmered  up 
to  imagination's  eye  beyond  the  green  rim  that  belted  my 
little,  quiet  home ;  now  I  yearn  more  eagerly  to  steal  away 
from  the  great  world,  and  hide  securely  in  the  purple  nooks 
of  the  blooming  and  breezy  woodlands  that  softly  cradle 
the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza. 

"How  truly  sang  the  poet:  'Blessings  brighten  as  they 
take  their  flight,'  and  '  Tis  distance  lends  enchantment  to 
the  view.' 

"  Will  you  wonder,  Edie,  if  I  tell  you  I  am  tired  of  admi- 
ration ?  Will  you  think  me  ungrateful  if  I  say  I  wish  I  had 
been  born  destitute  of  that  which  the  world  calls  beauty?  I 
am  weary  of  being  '  followed,  flattered,  sought,  and  sued.'  I 
want  to  rest.  I  feel  as  though  I  were  drifting  upon  a  wide, 
blue  ocean  amid  eternal  sunshine  with  no  green  foliage 
around  to  refresh  the  aching  vision  and  no  haven  of  repose 
in  view.  Drifting  —  drifting  smoothly,  prosperously,  yet 
aimless  and  hopeless.  Day  after  day  the  ocean  voyage  goes 
on,  around  the  cycle  of  the  sun-bright  hours,  for  no  white 


BERTHA, THE    BEAUTY 


109 


ipeck  of  distant  shore  shines  over  the  deep  waters ;  and  eve 
after  eve  I  ask  myself 'when  will  it  end?' 

"They  call  me  beautiful, and  I  look  in  vain  at  the  reflec- 
tion my  mirror  gives  baek  for  aught  to  justify  the  homage 
hourly  paid  the  substance  of  the  shadow.  Brown  eyes  that 
burn  with  soul-hunger  and  thirst ;  pale,  auburn  hair  with 
glimmers  of  faded  gold;  face,  colorless  as  the  York  roses 
that  grew  beside  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza; 
and  a  visible  ache  in  the  sunless  features  of  a  youthful 
image  reflected  there. 

"  Oh,  Edie,  could  I  but  nestle  down  in  my  dear  old  home, 
and  live  '  little  and  unknown,'  forever  hidden  from  those 
who  flatter  and  follow  me,  I  would  ask  no  more  on  earth  ! 
Life  seems  so  hollow  and  unsatisfying ;  the  chords  of  youth 
are  rusting  out  in  this  aimless  and  dormant  state.  My  soul 
is  paralyzed  amid  the  vanities  and  heartlessness  of  the 
world,  I  long  for  the  wild,  free  woods  —  the  warbling 
streams  and  birds  — the  sunshiny,  silent  meadow,  and  the 
deep  purple  of  the  fragrant  and  slumberous  old  pond  that 
shut  us  out  from  the  superficial  and  struggling  life  beyond. 
A  paradise  would  now  appear  the  humble,  rural  scenes  that 
were  once  monotonous  and  insufficient  to  a  restless  spirit, 
reaching  after  the  untired  things  across  the  narrow  boun- 
daries of  its  lowly  sphere. 

"  And  thus  it  is  :  '  We  push  time  from  us,  and  we  wish  it 
baek  ; '  we  stretch  our  hands  yearningly  towards  a  seeming 
better,  nor  realize  the  good  we  thought  to  gain!  Life's  true 
philosophy  is:  'In  whatsoever  situation  we  are,  therewith 
to  be  content.' 

"  I  try  to  be  content  now,  and  think  it  is  God's  will  that 
what  is  soon  to  come  to  pass  has  been  ordained  in  heaven. 
I  do  not  struggle  against  my  fate,  but  follow  quietly  those 
who  would  not  lead  me  wittingly  into  dark  and  toilsome 

ways. 

10 


110  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

"  It  is  my  father's  and  brother's  wish,  that  I  should  marry 
Horace  Stanhope,  and  I  yield  to  their  desire.  Our  nuptials 
will  be  consummated  in  a  few  weeks,  and  you  and  Minnie 
may  expect  cards  of  invitation." 

"I  won't  go,  I  vow  solemnly!  "  interjected  Minnie,  with 
two  great  tears  stealing  down  her  white,  sunken  cheeks; 
"I  won't  see  her  sacrificed  by  a  Yankee  father  to  a  Yankee 
stranger!  I'd  rather  be  a  —  a  — "  drunkard's  wife,  she 
meant  to  add,  but  Minnie's  tongue  could  not  syllable  the 
sound.  A  wave  of  crimson  rolled  over  her  face,  and,  with  a 
choking  sob,  turned  from  the  reader  and  lay  very  still. 

Edalia  swallowed  hard  and  continued  the  letter. 

"  As  I  have  insinuated  in  a  former  communication,  Mr. 
Stanhope  is  very  handsome  and  devoted  as  girlish  heart 
could  wish.  I  think  sometimes,  nature  fashioned  me  with- 
out a  heart,  or  it  would  have  learned  to  thrill  responsive  to 
his  own.  Perhaps  it  died  years  ago,  and  can  never  live 
again.  I  hope  so.  It  would  be  torment  this  side  of  eternity 
to  feel  its  capacity  for  loving  another  while  bound  irrevo- 
cably to  one!  God  save  me  from  this  trial  of  human 
strength !  There  was  a  time  when  I  thought  I  possessed  a 
heart  as  capable  of  affection  as  girlish  bosom  of  fourteen 
tender  years  ever  hid." 

"  Who,  on  earth,  could  it  have  been  ?  " 

Minnie  sprang  up,  with  eager  questioning  in  her  wide 
open  eyes.  "  I  never  imagined  that  Bert's  heart  had  been 
touched  by  the  blind  god !  So  young,  too  —  only  fourteen  ! 
Who  was  it,  Ed  ?  " 

Edalia  was  musing.  She  was  thinking  of  Bertha's  con- 
fusion on  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Redmond's  allusion  to  Dr. 
Davin,  and  of  her  reply  to  him  subsequently. 

"  Edward  Redmond,  Esq.,  perhaps  ?  " 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  Ill 

Could  it  be  that  her  surmises  were  correct?  She  roused 
up  at  Minnie's  eager  inquiry. 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  clue  to  the  discovery,  Minnie  ; 
Bertha  was  always  confidential  with  this  exception.  Strange 
that  we  never  suspected  her!  But  Bertha  has  a  strong,  deep 
soul,  fully  equal  to  the  heavy  task  of  bearing  and  con- 
cealing. If  he  is  living,  and  she  meets  him  after  her  mar- 
riage, it  would  be  far  better  for  her  to  die  now!  " 

"  What !  would  you  fear  for  the  consequences  ?  Do  you 
doubt  her  sense  of  duty  and  distrust  her  honor,  Edalia 
Redmond  ?  "     Minnie's  eyes  flashed. 

"'Lest,  after  having  preached  to  others,  I  myself  might 
be  a  castaway/  '  We  know  what  we  now  are,  but  not  what 
we  shall  be,'  "  was  Edalia's  non-committal  answer. 

"  Well,  I  don't  doubt  her.  She  would  die  sooner  than 
deviate  from  the  path  of  rectitude.  That  is  my  faith  in 
Bertha  Belmont's  principles,  Ed.     I  know  her." 

Edalia  smiled  —  a  well  satisfied  smile. 

"  My  faith  is  as  strong  as  yours,  Minnie  ;  but  no  human 
being  is  infallible ;  and  with  Bertha's  high  sense  of  duty 
and  honor,  and  unusual  capacity  for  feeling  affection  and 
scorn,  (for  Bertha  can  hate  as  well  as  love,)  it  would  be  far 
better  for  her  to  die  now  than  pass  through  the  fiery  ordeal 
of  being  hand-bound  to  one  and  heart-given  to  another. 
Do  you  comprehend  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You  mean  she  would  suffer  more  than  dying  — 
poor  Bert !     Now  finish  the  letter." 

"...  It  must  be  that  my  heart  died  then,  with  the  fading 
away  of  that  first  girlish  dream,  and  will  lie  forever  pulse- 
less beneath  the  ruins  of  its  earliest  hopes.  You  will  wonder 
at  this,  my  friend ;  but  you  will  never  know,  and  no  one 
will  ever  know  now  more  than  is  here  written.  Let  the 
things  that  were,  and  the  spring-roses  that  once  were  bright, 


112 

lie  under  the  mould  of  other  and  fairer  years,  that  have 
faded  and  gone.  Would  that  they  could  be  forgotten,  since 
they  can  never  return  ! 

"A  new  life  is  opening  before  me.  I  ask  myself:  Am  I 
equal  to  the  duties  it  will  bring  ?  and  I  close  my  ears  to  the 
reply.  I  am  afraid  to  look  beyond  the  present,  and  reflect 
upon  the  great  responsibility  I  am  destined  to  bear.  I  do 
not  court  it  —  it  will  be  laid  upon  my  weak  life.  I  do  not 
love  as  I  ought  to  love,  to  marry !  I  shall  not  deceive  him, 
for  I  have  told  him  all,  and  he  is  content  to  take  me  with 
the  little  affection  that  I  can  bring.  But  I  can  detect  a 
growing  jealousy  in  his  watchful  eyes,  and  I  fear. 

"  I  have  pleaded  to  be  released  from  my  hasty  engage- 
ment, but  he  smiles  at  my  anxiety,  and  treats  my  petition 
as  a  jest.  There  is  a  strange  fascination  about  the  man.  I 
pity  and  half  love  him  sometimes ;  again,  I  shrink  and 
tremble  when  he  is  near.  But,  Edie,  I  never  look  and 
listen  for  his  coining,  nor  grieve  when  he  is  gone  ;  and  I 
know  it  will  be  sinful  in  the  sight  of  high  heaven  to  give 
my  hand  to  one  who  cannot  reach  my  heart  and  play  a 
sweet  tune  on  its  silvery  cords.  But  I  cannot  escape.  I  am 
but  a  child,  led  by  stronger  hands.  I  know  they  would  not 
lead  me  to  sorrow,  if  they  doubted  the  safety  of  the  untried 
way.  My  father  and  brother  love  my  betrothed,  and  do  not 
understand  me  —  they  never  did.  They  marvel  that  I 
should  wear  a  sober  face  in  view  of  coming  events.  They  say 
he  will  be  less  jealous  and  exacting  when  I  am  all  his  own. 
But  mortal  eyes  cannot  look  down  into  hidden  human 
nature  and  see  its  constitutional  defects.  Kind  forbearance 
alone  can  win  love  after  marriage  —  cruelty  will  kill ! 

"  My  dear  mother  does  not  encourage  me  to  fulfil  my 
engagement  with  one  of  whose  antecedents  I  know  nothing. 
If  alone  with  her,  I  should  now  be  free;  but  she  is  partially 
reconciled  to  the  decree  by  a  promise  from  my  betrothed, 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  113 

never  to  take  me  from  the  parental  roof.  If  the  promise  is 
fulfilled,  I  shall  enjoy  a  negative  happiness ;  if  it  is  violated, 
I  shall  rebel,  or  —  die  I 

"  But  why  am  I  writing  you  thus,  Edie  ?  —  not  to  sadden 
and  distress  my  dearest  and  best  girl-friends,  but  '  coming 
events  cast  their  shadows  before/  and  a  great  shadow  lies 
over  the  way,  adown  which  I  am  going  to  the  veiled  years 
that  are  but  stepping-stones  to  the  quiet  grave,  and  I  cannot 
divest  myself  of  the  indefinable  feeling  that  the  life  of 
'Bertha  the  Beauty '  will  be  a  wreck !  " 

When  Dr.  Montrose  entered  his  daughter's  apartment, 
Bertha's  sad  letter  was  a  sufficient  screen  for  her  tear- 
swollen  eyes  and  feverish  brow. 

Edalia  retired  to  her  chamber  that  night  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  unhappiness  of  her  two  best  youthful 
friends,  added  to  her  own  heart-disappointment. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE   WILD   STORM. — EDALIA   IS   PUZZLED. 

A  SULTRY  August  sun  blazed  in  the  leaden-blue  sky, 
as  Edalia  passed   through    the  yard -gate  and  went 
lightly  down  to  her  wildwood  bower. 

This  bower  was  formed  by  the  clinging  tendrils  of  a  wild 
vine,  twisting  thickly  and  green  around  a  sturdy  old  oak ; 
and  the  myriad  claspers  creeping  up  modelled  an  Arab-like 
tent  about  the  roots,  into  which  she  crept  through  the  mat- 
ted vines,  and  was  effectually  shut  in  from  observation. 
Edalia  had  never  revealed  the  discovery  of  this  woodland 
lodge,  and  fancied  its  existence  wholly  unknown  to  another. 
10*  H 


114         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Deeply  absorbed  in  a  volume  of  peculiar  interest,  she  sat, 
unconscious  of  the  world  without,  till  a  vivid  flash  of  light- 
ning quickly  succeeded  by  a  heavy  peal  of  thunder  startled 
her,  and  she  sprang  through  the  vines  into  the  arms  of 
Walter  Eldon ! 

He  caught  her  closely  to  his  bosom  an  instant,  then  put 
her  coldly  and  sternly  back,  and,  catching  her  arm,  hurried 
her  towards  her  uncle's. 

"Hasten,  Edalia,  a  storm  is  brewing  —  I  hear  it  in  the 
wind  ! " 

Though  trembling  with  apprehension  occasioned  by  the 
heavens'  seeming,  the  young  girl  could  not  forbear  smiling 
at  this  appropriation  amid  such  a  scene. 

Walter  caught  her  eye,  and  the  soul's  sunshine  restored 
his  cold  firm  face  to  its  wonted  softness. 

As  they  emerged  from  the  woods,  a  brilliant  flash  illumi- 
nated the  heavens,  and  a  heavy  boom  of  ethereal  artillery 
heralded  a  torrent  of  rain. 

Muffling  her  in  a  cloak  which  he  had  the  precaution  to 
appropriate,  young  Eldon  lifted  the  quivering  girl  in  his 
arras  and  ran  into  the  piazza. 

Mr.  Redmond  was  there  in  a  fluster.  Servants  had  been 
dispatched  in  various  quarters  where  there  was  a  probability 
of  finding  the  lost  one,  but  returned  dispirited. 

"  Where  the  deuce  did  you  find  'er,  Wall  ?  Fast  asleep 
in  Euripide's  cave?  Wicked  elf!  See,  what  a  plight 
you  've  got  the  poor  boy  in  !  " 

And  a  sorry  plight  it  was,  truly;  for,  in  his  efforts  to 
shield  Edalia,  he  had  become  drenched  and  dripping. 

The  girl's  face  betrayed  her  regrets,  for  Walter  ex- 
claimed: 

"Never  mind  it,  Edalia,  'Richard  will  be  himself  again' 
when  he  descends,  and  a  shower-bath  in  summer  time  is  n't 
uncomfortable,"  and  he  went  up  to  his  chamber. 


115 

The  drifting  rain  drove  them  from  the  piazza,  and  they 
took  refuge  in  the  hall,  where  Walter  soon  joined  them. 

"Gratify  my  curiosity  in  one  particular,  Walter." 

"Certainly,  Edalia, — command  me." 

"  How  did  you  come  so  opportunely  to  my  rescue?" 

"  I  saw  you  wending  towards  your  favorite  retreat,  and 
hastened  thither  when  uncle  sounded  the  alarm." 

"  My  favorite  retreat!  Then  the  knowledge  of  its  locality 
was  in  your  possession  previously?" 

He  smiled,  a  strange  sunshiny  smile.  Mr.  Redmond 
caught  the  infection,  and  his  eye  snapped  and  sparkled. 

"  Trust  him  for  hunting  up  wild  nooks  and  Naiad  hiding- 
places  !     By  Jupiter !  I  —  " 

A  terrific  explosion  of  electricity  shook  the  dwelling  to 
its  centre,  and  involuntarily  Edalia  shrank  closer  to  Walter. 

Peal  succeeded  peal,  and  the  world  seemed  ablaze  with 
liquid  fire.  Terrified  beyond  conception,  Edalia  forgot  all 
things  but  death ;  and  when  the  dull  roar  of  the  terrible 
storm  became  distant  in  the  heavens,  and  the  blinding 
flashes  less  frequent,  she  found  herself  in  the  arms  of  Walter, 
her  face  hidden  upon  his  shoulder. 

Mr.  Redmond  had  disappeared  from  the  hall. 

Edalia  essayed  to  escape,  but  he  playfully  detained  her. 
She  struggled  and  uttered,  impulsively:     "Agnes  !" 

He  smiled  brightly,  and  his  cheeks  flushed. 

"  What  is  Agnes  to  — "  He  hesitated,  and  grew  deathly 
pale ;  released  her  quietly,  and  walked  coolly  away. 

Edalia  retreated  precipitately,  to  ruminate  upon  the 
changeful  moods  of  the  incomprehensible  man. 

When  they  met  again,  he  was  calm,  but  the  color  had 
not  returned  to  his  cheeks. 


116  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

HOEACE   STANHOPE. — GREEN   EYES. 

THAT  fearful  August  storm  raged  around  the  pleasant 
home  of  Mr.  Belmont,  and  laid  with  its  wild  wind* 
blast  the  majestic  old  sycamore-tree  that  shaded  Bertha's 
chamber-window  from  the  fervid  heat  of  a  sultry  summer 
sun  prostrate  to  the  earth. 

Bertha  saw  it  fall,  and  it  appeared  to  cross  her  young  life. 

"  It  is  like  my  hopes,"  she  said  ;  but  the  sound  was  only 
heard  in  her  heart. 

For  two  months  she  had  been  a  wife,  and  the  great  shadow 
had  not  been  lifted  away  from  her  path.  It  had  deepened 
with  the  days  that  died,  and  hung  threateningly  over  the 
days  that  were  destined  to  be  born  of  the  shadowy  night. 

It  was  the  eighteenth  anniversary  of  her  birth,  and  the 
wild  storm  seemed  typical  of  the  fate  of  a  life  that  had  been 
thrust  upon  the  world  eighteen  years  ago.  She  had  known 
no  childhood,  and  old  age  seemed  withering  her  hungry 
soul  even  in  early  youth.  There  was  an  aching  void  in 
her  heart  that  Horace  Stanhope  could  not  fill,  and  the 
effort  to  conceal  his  insufficiency  to  satisfy  her  spirit- 
craving  rendered  her  less  peaceful  than  in  the  days  of 
girlish  freedom. 

Bertha  knew  her  husband  loved  her — it  was  a  self- 
evident  fact;  no  one  had  ever  for  a  moment  distrusted  his 
affection  for  the  beautiful,  timid  girl  he  had  won  from  so 
many  admirers ;  and  it  wTas  the  full  consciousness  of  his 
entire  devotion  that  had  rendered  our  heroine  more  yield- 
ing to  her  lover's  wooing  and  her  father's  will. 

Once  she  had  pleaded  to  be  released,  and  insisted  upon 


117 

dissolving  their  engagement  from  a  sense  of  justice  to  him 
and  honor  to  herself;  but  Horace  Stanhope's  expression  of 
utter  hope-abandonment  melted  her  sympathetic  soul  to  pity 
and  repentance. 

From  that  hour,  Bertha  ceased  to  struggle  against  her 
fete,  and,  as  she  had  written  to  Edalia,  she  went  'drifting  — 
drifting  —  on  a  deep  and  shoreless  sea.'  She  shut  her  eyes, 
and  tried  to  close  her  ears  to  the  scenes  and  sounds  that 
awaited  her  in  a  new  state  she  was  soon  to  enter,  and  went 
blindly  and  tacitly  after  her  paternal  guide. 

Mr.  Belmont  did  not  suspect  the  burning  secret  that  lay 
buried  in  his  daughter's  bosom,  or  he  would  have  stopped 
short  of  the  boundary  that  shut  her  out  from  full  freedom 
of  thought  and  action.  Bertha  was  the  idol  of  his  heart  — 
the  pride  and  pet  of  his  life  —  and  he  honestly  thought  to 
secure  her  future  felicity  by  uniting  her  to  one  so  wholly 
heart-given  to  her  as  Horace  Stanhope.  He  laughed  at  her 
1 little  foolish  fears'  and  'silly  objections'  to  her  devoted 
lover.  His  'large  hands'  and  'Yankee  idioms'  were  by  no 
means  derogatory  to  a  worthy  character.  Horace  loved  her 
as  well  as  he  did  himself.  His  little  jealousies  that  annoyed 
her  would  die  when  matrimony  removed  all  doubt  and  fear 
of  eventually  obtaining  her.  Jealousy  was  a  certain  proof 
of  genuine  love. 

Honest  and  honorable  himself,  Mr.  Belmont  searched 
not  beneath  a  shining  surface  for  secret  sins ;  and  Horace 
Stanhope  had  stains  upon  his  inner  life  that  only  keen  and 
watchful  eyes  could  discover.  Bertha  detected  them  be- 
neath the  well-worn  mask  of  conventionalism,  even  before 
marriage ;  and  they  grew  gradually  perceptible  to  her 
father  when  matrimony  rendered  circumspection  no  longer 
politic  and  necessary  to  the  end  in  view. 

Mr.  Belmont  opened  his  remorseful  eyes  too  late  to  the 
life-long  error  he  had  committed  in  influencing  his  daughter 


118  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

against  her  better  judgment  and  heart  -  acquiescence,  in  a 
matter  of  such  vital  importance  as  the  bridal  vow. 

[Not  one  month  elapsed  after  Bertha's  union,  before  he 
was  forced  to  exclaim,  in  sudden  surprise  and  horror,  "Oh, 
what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath  !  " 

The  wild  storm  raged  without,  and  Bertha  knelt  at  her 
chamber-window  and  watched  the  livid  lightning  leap  from 
cloud  to  cloud,  weaving  burning  chains  along  the  wrathful 
sky.  Once  she  was  fearful  of  the  thunder-burst  and  leaping 
fire  from  the  wrathful  clouds,  she  would  hide  in  her  father's 
bosom,  or  under  the  quilt  in  her  darkened  chamber ;  now 
she  was  strong  and  daring,  though  the  quick  flash  momently 
burned  and  blinded  her  vision. 

"  It  was  grand !  It  was  sublime ! "  she  said,  as  the 
thunder-crash  came  down  and  the  liquid  fire  flamed. 

Horace  Stanhope  thought  his  young  wife  reckless,  as  he 
sat  and  watched  her,  shrinking  himself  from  the  live 
thunder  and  lurid  light. 

"  Come  from  that  window,  Bertha !  "  he  commanded. 

"  What  for,  Mr.  Stanhope  ?  I  want  to  see.  (Oh,  what  a 
beautiful  chain  ! ") 

"  Come  here,  Bertha !  "  His  tone  had  a  touch  of  threat 
like  muttering  thunder  rolling  up  from  afar. 

"  Please  let  me  stay  a  little  bit.  (Oh,  what  a  magnificent 
blaze  ! ") 

"  You  promised  to  obey  me,  Bertha,  —  come !  " 

Bertha  went,  silently,  with  an  expression  akin  to  martyr- 
dom on  her  sober  face. 

"  You  are  a  strange  girl,  Bertha,  to  admire  such  wild 
scenes.  I  thought  you  possessed  a  softer  and  more  feminine 
soul." 

"  God  made  me  and  the  storm  too.  I  am  not  responsible 
for  my  nature,  Mr.  Stanhope." 

"  I   wish   you   would   call   me   Horace,   Mrs.   Stanhope. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         119 

Your  '  Mr.'  is  like  December  in  May.  I  have  told  you  so 
before." 

"  I  have  tried,  but  I  can't  get  used  to  it.  I  forget.  Please 
excuse  me.  I  don't  mean  to  displease  or  disobey  you.  It 
is  n't  our  Southern  style  of  speaking  of  or  to  our  liege  lord. 
It  does  not  seem  respectful." 

"  You  must  renounce  your  *  Southern  style/  now  ;  you  are 
a  Yankee's  wife,  and  must  learn  to  be  a  Yankee." 

"  Must !  " 

"Yes.  You  must  forget  your  past  life  and  'Southern 
styles,'  and  live  for  your  husband  and  his  Northern  no- 
tions." 

Bertha's  small  mouth  wore  a  strange  expression.  Only  a 
lynx-eye  could  have  detected  a  hint  of  scorn  in  the  firm 
compression.  He  had  drawn  her  down  upon  his  knee,  and 
his  Argus  eyes  searched  her  countenance.  Horace  Stan- 
hope took  the  '  hint,'  and  it  burned  him. 

"That  is  more  than  I  bargained  for,"  she  said,  dryly. 
"  I  will  try  to  perform  all  that  I  promised  at  the  bridal 
altar,  but  to  forget  the  past  and  transform  our  nature  at 
will  is  not  in  our  power." 

"  If  you  loved  me,  you  would  find  it  easy  to  conform  to 
my  wish.  It  would  not  have  been  necessary  to  call  you 
three  times  before  you  obeyed."     His  eyes  flashed. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  be  disobedient ;  it  was  such  a  small 
thing.  I  thought  you  would  be  willing  to  gratify  me,  if 
you  knew  how  I  enjoyed  the  scene.     I  did  n't  suppose  —  " 

"Well?  — spit  it  out." 

Bertha  crimsoned  with  indignation  at  the  Northern  vul- 
garism, and  made  an  impulsive  movement  to  leave  his  knee. 
But  he  held  her  fast,  with  a  clouded  brow. 

"  Let  me  hear  what  you  'did  n't  suppose.'  " 

"  That  you  would  deprive  me  of  a  pleasure  simply  for  the 
sake  of  exercising  your  authority  and  being  obeyed." 


120         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  And  now,  why  did  you  wish  to  leave  my  arras  just  now  ? " 

"  I  am  not  accustomed  to  unrefined  language,  and  your 
style  of  expression  startles  me  sometimes.  I  am  a  creature 
of  impulse,  and  often  act  badly  without  any  wrong  motive. 
Don't  let  me  hurt  you  by  sudden  starts.  I  shall  get  used  to 
you  after  a  while,"  The  veriest  ghost  of  a  smile  hovered 
about  her  lips,  and  in  her  clear  hazel  eyes. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  are  entirely  too  refined  for  me,  Mrs. 
Stanhope!"  There  was  sarcasm  in  his  tone,  and  anger  in 
his  eyes. 

Bertha  made  no  reply,  but  she  wondered  why  he  had  not 
made  that  discovery  before  it  was  too  late  to  repair  the 
error. 

"Do  you  think  you  will  ever  love  me,  Bertha?"  were  his 
next  words,  in  a  softened  tone. 

She  was  truthful,  and  never  attempted  to  deceive.  Hy- 
pocrisy was  foreign  to  her  nature.     She  said,  frankly : 

"  I  shall,  if  you  are  kind  and  forbearing.    I  love  you  now, 

sometimes." 

« 

"  Yes,  you  love  me  when  I  let  you  have  your  own  way 
and  lead  me  by  the  nose.  I  would  n't  give  a  d — n  for  such 
love  as  that !  "  He  pushed  her  from  his  knee,  and  sprang 
up,  wrathfully. 

Our  heroine  had  never  before  been  so  taken  by  surprise. 
It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  heard  him  utter  a  profane 
word.  Before  her  marriage,  one  of  Horace  Stanhope's 
rivals  had  informed  her  of  his  proficiency  in  the  art  of  in- 
terlarding his  language  with  expletives  forbidden  by  the 
Decalogue,  and  she  carried  the  information  to  her  father, 
which  was  at  once  set  down  by  prejudice-blinded  Mr.  Bel- 
mont to  jealousy  in  a  rival  —  a  base  calumny. 

Mr.  Belmont  viewed  Horace  Stanhope  through  a  rose- 
colored  lens,  until  matrimony  broke  the  glass,  and  he  saw 
clearly.     If  the  father's  happiness  alone  had  been  involved, 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  121 

ft\\  would  have  pitied  him.  It  was  the  first  time  Horace 
Stanhope's  passionate  soul  had  made  sueh  an  undisguised 
display,  and  Bertha  stood  in  mute  astonishment  and  half 
despair  a  moment ;  then  she  went  quietly  to  her  old  place 
by  the  window,  and  looked  out  upon  the  subsiding  storm. 

Stanhope  was  walking  the  room  with  restless  strides,  and 
watching  her.  Suddenly  he  sprang  to  the  window,  and 
pulled  her  rudely  away.  His  face  was  colorless  with  pas- 
sion.    He  hissed : 

"  Yes,  that  is  your  admiration  for  wild  storms  and  love 
for  that  window !  You  watch  and  wait  for  your  lovers  and 
give  them  smiles,  when  you  have  none  for  your  husband! " 

"  You  hurt  me,  Mr.  Stanhope,"  was  all  she  said. 

He  threw  her  arm  from  him  so  violently,  that  she  reeled 
and  fell  against  the  wall.  He  reached  after  her  quickly, 
and  held  her  standing  before  him. 

"  Bertha,  if  you  love  that  man,  why  did  you  marry  me?" 

"  What  man,  Mr.  Stanhope  ?  " 

"That  fellow  to  whom  you  just  gave  your  swreetest  smile, 
when  to  me  you  rarely  give  a  beam  of  light.  I  saw  it  all. 
Why  did  you  not  marry  him,  and  spare  me?  " 

"  I  don't  love  him,  Mr.  Stanhope  —  I  never  did.  I  mar- 
ried you,  because  you  wrould  not  release  me  from  my  hasty 
vow.  I  told  you  all  then.  You  cannot  now  reproach  me 
for  duplicity.  I  cannot  smile,  Mr.  Stanhope,  when  you 
frown,  and  torment  me  wTith  ungentle  words.  Kindness 
may  win  love,  but  cruelty  will  kill." 

She  bared  her  slender  arm,  and  exposed  the  marks  of  his 
violence.  His  finger-prints  were  plainly  seen  in  red  and 
swollen  lines,  purpling  where  his  ruthless  grasp  had  been. 

It  was  too  much  for  the  soul-sick  girl.    She  dropped  upon 
a  chair,  and  burst  into  tears  —  the  first  tears  he  had  ever 
seen  her  weep. 
11 


122 

Horace  Stanhope  was  on  his  knees  at  her  feet,  in  an 
instant. 

11  Forgive  me,  Bertha ;  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  you.  You 
know  I  love  you  more  than  life,  and  it  drives  me  wild  to 
feel  you  have  no  love  for  me." 

He  laid  his  face  upon  her  arm,  and  kissed  the  purplish 
prints. 

"I  told  you  so,"  she  sobbed, —  "  but  you  would  not  release 
me,  and  spare  us  both.  I  said  we  should  be  unhappy  to- 
gether, but  you  would  not  listen  to  my  warning  ;  and  now 
it  is  too  late  !  " 

"Dear,  it  is  not  too  late  for  happiness.  Forgive,  and 
forget  the  past,  and  I  will  be  more  careful  in  the  future. 
I  would  harm  myself  sooner  than  you ;  but  I  cannot  bear  to 
see  you  smile  upon  others,  and  look  coldly  on  me,  Bertha." 

"  You  should  not  indulge  such  jealous  thoughts,  Mr. 
Stanhope.  Love  cannot  be  forced  —  it  is  not  the  growth  of 
years,  nor  gift  of  will.  It  is  my  nature  to  be  led,  and  not 
driven.  I  love  you  when  you  are  kind  and  gentle,  but  I 
cannot  smile  and  affect  fondness,  when  your  reproaches  and 
unjust  suspicions  repel  me.  If  you  will  let  me  live  in  peace, 
and  not  watch  and  question  me  continually,  your  hopes  of 
being  loved  as  you  say  you  love  me,  will  sooner  be  realized." 

"  I  will  try,  Bertha,  if  you  will  not  speak  to  him  again." 

"  To  whom,  Mr.  Stanhope  ?  " 

"  That  fellow,  Harry  Herbert.  He 's  a  scoundrel,  to  be 
hanging  round  a  married  woman,  and  seeking  every  oppor- 
tunity to  annoy  me  by  his  villanous  smiles  and  attentions." 

"  Mr.  Stanhope !  I  have  not  exchanged  a  dozen  words 
with  him  since  our  marriage  ;  and  his  attentions  have  been 
too  slight  for  remembrance.  He  has  the  reputation  of 
being  an  honorable  man,  and  is  a  prominent  member  of 
the  church." 

"  Such  fellows  are  the   most  dangerous !     If  a    reward 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  123 

were  offered  for  the  grandest  rascal  in  existence,  I 'd  go 
to  the  church-fold  to  find  him  !  Will  you  promise  me, 
Bertha  ? " 

"It  will  reflect  dishonor  upon  you,  Mr.  Stanhope, — 
people  will  suspect  the  cause;  and.  your  reputation  is  dear 
to  me." 

"  Let  them  suspect.  I  will  take  the  responsibility.  He 
loved  you  before  your  marriage,  and  the  fellow  annoys  me 
by  his  efforts  at  gallantry  and  saintly  smiles.  Will  you 
promise,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  I  will,  if  it  will  disarm  your  jealousy,  and  leave  me  in 
peace." 

And  so  the  days  went  on  ;  more  quiet,  but  not  more  hope- 
ful, to  Bertha.  Horace  Stanhope  had  fallen  in  her  estima- 
tion since  their  marriage,  and  the  great  void  in  her  young 
heart  was  fast  filling  up  with  bitter  waters. 

Having  married  him  through  the  influence  of  her  father 
and  brother,  and  trusting  to  his  own  affection  to  learn  to 
reciprocate  it,  there  was  no  love  to  hide  his  defects,  and 
restrain  the  contempt  irresistibly  inspired  by  a  constant  ex- 
posure of  his  mental  deformity. 

It  was  a  bitter  pain  for  one  of  her  yearning  and  poetic 
temperament  to  feel  the  up-gushings  of  scorn  for  him  to 
whom  she  was  securely  bound  by  a  life-long  vow  —  for  weal 
or  for  woe ! 

Bertha  looked  off  into  the  veiled  future,  with  sunless 
spirit-eyes,  and  the  great  cry  of  her  struggling  soul  was : 
"  When  will  it  end  f  " 

Disease  fastened  upon  her  frail  form,  and  through  the 
long,  weary  months  of  autumn  and  winter  shut  her  in  from 
the  admiring  and  sympathizing  world. 

After  that  wild  August  storm,  "  Bertha  the  Beauty  "  was 
seen  no  more  beyond  her  clouded  home,  until  the  first  bird 
of  spring  time  sent  up  its  silvery  song  in  the  budding  wood- 


124  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

lands ;  and  she  was  providentially  spared  the  pain  of  meet- 
ing a  kind  Christian  friend  with  unjustifiable  and  inexpli- 
cable coldness. 

And  "Bertha  the  Beauty  is  dying!"  was  heard,  day 
after  day,  in  the  great  world  where  she  had  so  lately  reigned 
in  maiden  loveliness  —  the  admired  of  all  admirers. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A   TEMPERANCE   LECTURE.  —  JONESES   STORE. 

THE  whistling  winds  of  a  cold  December  day  made  frost- 
work upon  the  window-panes,  as  Edalia  came  in  from 
a  visit  to  Minnie. 

Mr.  Redmond  was  away  in  the  town  of  Tarboro',  on 
business  pertaining  to  his  profession ;  and  Walter,  she 
imagined,  was  mentally  merged  in  a  ponderous  pile  of 
formidable  folios  in  the  office. 

Though  gentle  in  his  demeanor  and  ever  considerate,  he 
had  grown  apparently  colder  and  more  constrained  since 
the  circumstance  occasioned  by  that  wild  August  storm ; 
and  nature  had  constituted  Edalia  for  a  consummate  illus- 
tration of  the  principle  permeating  Cowper's  couplet : 

"  The  man  I  trust,  if  shy  to  me, 
Will  find  me  as  reserved  as  he." 

She  was  surprised,  on  entering  the  parlor,  to  find  him  ex- 
tended upon  a  sofa,  apparently  in  profound  enjoyment  of 
"  tired  nature's  sweet  restorer." 

Edalia  drew  back  instinctively,  meditating  a  retreat ;  but 
the  crimson  hue  of  his  cheeks  wrought  a  revulsion  of  feel- 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  125 

ing.  She  went  surreptitiously  up  and  knelt  beside  him, 
and  laid  her  hand  softly  upon  his  forehead ;  it  was  burning 
hot,  and  the  swollen  blue  veins  upon  his  temples  throbbed 
with  fever. 

Alarmed  at  the  symptoms,  she  uttered  a  correspondent 
exclamation.     He  opened  his  eyes  and  smiled. 

Edalia  arose  quickly,  and  remarked,  quietly : 

"  You  require  medical  aid,  Walter ;  I  shall  summon  Dr. 
Montrose." 

"  No ;  it  is  unnecessary.  Come  and  sit  here,  Edalia.  It 
is  but  a  transient  ailment.    Come  here,  Edie." 

He  had  not,  since  boyhood,  addressed  her  by  that  pet 
name.  She  drew  an  ottoman  beside  him,  and  granted  his 
request.  He  laid  her  hand  upon  his  flushed  forehead,  and 
looked  earnestly  into  her  eyes,  murmuring : 

"  Oh,  fate,  fate !  " 

A  pallor  overspread  his  face.  He  lay  thoughtfully  a 
moment,  then  continued,  with  an  effort : 

"  Edalia,  will  you  marry  Colonel  Henley  ?  " 

"Never!  Colonel  Henley  possesses  no  interest  in  my 
heart  paramount  to  friendship.  I  have  declined  the  honor 
he  proposed  to  confer." 

He  smiled  again,  and  the  rose  returned  to  his  cheeks. 

"  I  rejoice  at  this  disclosure  ;  for,  though  obviously  a  de- 
sirable conquest  as  regards  wealth  and  station,  yet  Colonel 
Henley  stands  upon  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  and  I  would 
not  have  my  —  I  would  not  have  you,  Edalia,  unite  your 
destiny  with  one  of  whom  we  have  so  frail  security  against 
eventual  precipitation.  May  heaven  avert  from  you,  Edie, 
the  calamity  that  has  befallen  Minnie  Chester  —  an  inebri- 
ate's wife ! " 

"Poor  Minnie!  Is  there  no  hope  of  Charles,  Walter? 
Can  he  not  be  reclaimed  ?  " 

"  Without  some  restraint  involving  his  honor,  there  is  no 
11* 


126 

hope,  Edalia;  but  we  should  uever  despair  iu  an  effort  for 
the  accomplishment  of  a  worthy  object.  I  can  harbor  no 
hope  of  his  reformation  until  he  pledges  himself  to  total 
abstinence  from  all  intoxicating  beverages.  Men  will  bru- 
talize their  nature  in  an  hour  of  unbridled  passion  who 
would  hold  inviolate  a  promise  reflecting  upon  their  honor ; 
and  Charles,  though  led  captive  by  sensuality,  degenerate, 
and  sadly  fallen,  has  this  redeeming  trait." 

"  He  must  —  he  will  be  saved  ;  perchance  to-night." 

"  Alas,  no  !  he  will  not  attend.     Do  you  go,  Edalia  ?  " 

"I  shall,  if—  " 

"Ifwhat,Edie?" 

He  drew  her  gently  toward  him,  and  pulled  her  curls 
playfully  over  his  eyes  and  lips. 

"  I  shall,  if  uncle  returns,  and  —  " 

He  interrupted  her. 

"  If  uncle  returns  ?  Won't  you  let  me  be  your  escort, 
Edalia?" 

"  With  pleasure,  if  you  desire  it ;  —  but  Agnes  —  ?  " 

The  color  deepened  on  his  brow  as  he  replied : 

"  Ever  mindful  of  Agnes  !     Do  you  love  her  so  truly  ?  " 

"  I  love  her  very  dearly." 

"  Would  you  have  me  marry  Agnes,  Edalia?" 

"  If  it  is  your  wish.     I  desire  your  happiness,  Walter." 

He  started  up.  The  rich  blood  rushed  to  his  face,  and 
his  eyes  flashed.  He  stooped,  wound  his  arms  around  her 
wraist,  and  lifted  her  to  the  sofa  beside  him. 

"  My  happiness  !     It  is  in  —  do  you  think  I  could  —  " 

He  ceased,  rose  hastily  up,  ejaculating  vehemently: 

"  Great  God  !  —  I  dare  not !  " 

He  was  deathly  white. 

Mr.  Kedmond's  cheerful  voice  echoed  up  from  the  yard 
in  answer  to  the  familiar  greeting  of  petted  little  Dick,  and 
Edalia  slipped  silently  away. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  127 

It  was  a  cold  clear  night,  lit  with  myriad  stars,  and  the 
crescent  moon  streaking  the  dark  violet  sky  with  a  pathway 
of  silver  radiance. 

Edalia  walked  to  the  old  school-house  with  Walter.  Mr. 
Redmond  chaperoned  Agnes.  The  large  room  was  crowded 
to  its  utmost  capacity  with  the  gay  villagers  —  old  men  and 
maidens,  young  men  and  mothers  —  an  heterogeneous  mass 
huddled  together,  with  curious  hearts  to  witness  the  novel 
scene. 

A  Temperance  Lecture  was  a  novel  affair  in  this  quiet 
country  place,  and  eagerly  the  excited  inhabitants  gathered 
together  to  enjoy  a  scene  so  rare. 

The  desks  were  ranged  around  the  wide  walls,  and  little 
children  —  neat  and  rosy,  ragged  and  pale  —  nestled  upon 
the  niched  and  ink-stained  lids,  peering  with  great  wonder- 
ing eyes  over  the  heads  of  the  adult  audience,  toward  the 
speaker's  stand. 

He  rose  —  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  clear  gray  eyes  and  sil- 
very hair.  His  voice  was  low  and  plaintive  as  he  portrayed 
the  sufferings  of  woman  arising  from  this  curse  of  man : 
the  toiling,  careworn  wife ;  the  cheerless  hearth  ;  the  pale 
and  famished  offspring ;  the  dark  and  dreary  future,  dim 
with  weeping  over  loved  ones  imbruted  by  this  desolating 
scourge,  —  and  a  stifled  sob  arose  from  weary  ones  in  that 
dense  and  hushed  assembly. 

Gradually  his  voice  expanded ;  his  gray  eye  flashed ;  the 
hot  blood  crept  to  his  pale  brow ;  and  "  Death  to  the  Tyrant ! " 
was  greeted  with  a  burst  of  applause. 

He  sat  down,  and  "  Henley !  Henley !  "  floated  through 
the  crowd  as  the  tumult  subsided. 

Edalia  started  with  surprise  and  indignation  to  behold 
him  answer  to  the  call,  and  ascend  the  stand  to  combat  the 
principles  of  the  aged  speaker. 

She  said,  mentally  : 


128 

''Man!  God-like  man!  created  in  the  image  of  his 
Maker,  prostituting  the  glorious  gifts  of  Divinity  to  the 
perversion  of  truth,  in  the  sustenance  of  an  evil  that  has 
deluged  the  world  with  woe,  and  drifted  innocent  and  help- 
less hearts  out  upon  the  wide  ocean  of  despair,  and  ingulfed 
them  in  the  whirling  maelstrom  of  death  !  " 

It  was  a  bold  and  brilliant  advocacy  of  the  cause  he 
espoused,  but  "  Mene,  mene,  tekel  upharsin "  was  written, 
with  the  glitter  of  his  own  eloquent  sophistry,  upon  the 
already  tarnished  fame  of  Tom  Henley.  It  was  meet  that 
a  libertine  should  advocate  the  cause  of  the  "  enemy  that 
steals  away  the  brain." 

Beside  Edalia  sat  a  pale,  feeble  woman,  gazing  implor- 
ingly, with  tearful  eyes,  at  the  handsome  face  of  the  gifted 
speaker. 

Walter  turned  his  large  blue  orbs  upon  her,  and  they 
emitted  the  brilliancy  of  diamonds.  His  face  crimsoned, 
and  he  grew  restless.  As  Henley  closed  his  defence  he 
sprang  up,  unbidden,  and  advanced  toward  the  stand. 

"Eldon!  Eldon!"  echoed  around,  and  the  old  room  rang 
again. 

It  was  his  first  effort  at  public  debate,  and  Edalia  trem- 
bled with  excitement.  Mr.  Redmond  glanced  toward  her, 
as  the  young  man  sprang,  with  graceful  elasticity,  upon  the 
platform,  and  his  eyes  snapped  and  glittered  with  proud 
animation. 

An  appearance  of  shrinking  and  timidity  overspread  his 
features  as  his  eyes  wandered  over  that  silent  assembly,  and 
he  realized  his  position  ;  but  turning  boldly  and  scornfully 
toward  the  last  speaker,  and  pointing  his  finger  at  the  won- 
dering Henley,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  full  and  distinct  tone : 

"  Woe  unto  you !  — you  entered  not  in  yourself,  and  those 
that  were  entering  in  you  hindered  !  " 

He  grew  assured  and  fearless ;  his  face  became  radiant 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  129 

with  the  sunshine  of  a  noble  and  sympathizing  soul.  His 
voice  rose  and  fell  with  the  plaints  and  ecstasies  of  feeling, 
and  his  fine  form  swayed  and  expanded  with  the  ebb  and 
flow  of  eloquence,  and  the  flashes  of  wit  and  enthusiasm. 

Henley  turned  pale  beneath  his  stinging  sarcasm  and 
scathing  wit,  and  the  old  lecturer  smiled. 

"  God  bless  him ! "  breathed  the  feeble  woman  beside 
Edalia,  as  tears  and  smiles  struggled  for  predominance  in 
her  faded,  sunken  eyes. 

Walter  descended  from  the  stand,  and  resumed  his  seat 
beside  Edalia,  amid  a  storm  of  applause  from  the  admiring 
audience. 

Calmly  and  inquiringly  he  looked  into  the  young  girl's 
eyes.  She  laid  her  hand  impulsively  in  his.  He  clasped 
it  with  his  own  peculiar  clasp  —  gentle  and  soft,  but  firm 
as  adamant. 

The  Pledge  wras  brought  forward  and  handed  through 
the  assembly,  and  name  after  name  ran  down  the  double 
column. 

Edalia  watched  with  intense  interest  the  pale  sufferer 
beside  her.  Her  dilated  eyes  were  fixed  upon  a  haggard 
man  in  a  distant  quarter,  as  the  official  member  approached 
him  and  presented  the  Pledge.  He  glanced  toward  her 
and  smiled,  grasped  the  white  sheet  resolutely,  and  hastily 
affixed  his  signature.  She  clasped  her  small,  toil-hardened 
hands  nervously,  dropped  her  face  upon  them,  and  a  tremor 
agitated  her  bowed  form. 

"  Thank  God,  there  is  one  more  trophy ! "  exclaimed 
Walter  Eldon,  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

A  loud  acclamation  went  up  from  the  ragged  and  riotous 
portion  of  the  assembled  rustics  as  they  issued  from  the  old 
school-house  into  the  keen  wintry  air : 

"Hurraw  for  Colonel  Henley!  —  hurraw  for  handsome 
Hen  ! " 

I 


130 

Edalia  shuddered,  and  clung  closer  to  her  companion, 
mentally  contrasting  his  proud  manly  worth  with  the  mis- 
erable debauched  crew. 

Wending  homeward,  a  mercantile  establishment  after  the 
country  order  threw  its  streams  of  candle-light  across  -their 
way. 

This  establishment  was  at  once  the  repository  of  dry- 
goods,  hardware,  groceries,  confections,  and  malt  liquors, 
indiscriminately  blended,  and  was  known  to  all  the  country 
round  as  "  Jones's  Store." 

Old  Jones  had  gone  the  way  of  all  the  earth  long  years 
ago,  with  the  assistance  of  his  own  excellent  brandies  and 
a  drunken  M.D.,  but  his  name  lived  on  in  the  famous  insti- 
tution he  had  founded ;  and  hunters  and  trappers  of  wild 
beasts  found  Jones's  Store  a  wonderful  convenience  for  dis- 
posing of  the  animals'  skins,  and  refreshing  their  inner  man 
with  the  liquid  proceeds. 

Bertha's  brother  —  little  Claude  Belmont — had,  in  early 
childhood,  been  cheated  into  senseless  intoxication  by  the 
founder  of  this  establishment  for  his  own  amusement ;  and 
mother  and  sister  never  forgave  the  soulless  deceiver. 

Old  Jones  slept  soundly  now  in  his  cold  bed,  and  his 
"  Store  "  was  destined  to  lay  many  more  as  low  as  him- 
self. 

Edalia  caught  the  name  of  her  companion  through  the 
unclosed  door,  and  laughingly  arrested  his  progress,  survey- 
ing the  group  within  through  a  broken  window-pane. 

"  I  say,  Gov'ner,  did  you  hear  young  Eldon's  maiden 
speech  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then,  by  jux,  you  missed  a  figure  there,  old  boy !  Haw, 
h-a-w !  —  the  way  he  did  put  Hen's  chunk  out  was  a  sin  to 
Davy  Crockett ! " 

"  Good  !     Well,  I  '11  swing  by  the  seven  stars  if  I  did  n't 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         131 

always  say  he'd  make  a  famous  lawyer!  How  did  Tom 
take  it?" 

"  Take  it !  Je-rusalem  !  (Give  us  a  horn  o'  brandy, 
Boniface ;  I  'm  deuced  dry.  None  o'  your  wish-a-washy 
stuff — brandy  'n  sugar  —  but  a  good  mug  o'  the  ginequine, 
to  wet  my  whistle  with.)  Take  it !  <  Oe-ation !  He  col- 
lapsed quicker !  —  knocked  right  under,  and  looked  savage 
as  a  meat-axe  in  the  holidays! " 

Mr.  Peterroy  Simpkins  here  stalked  up  from  the  farther 
extremity  of  the  store,  and  hooking  both  thumbs  in  the  arm- 
holes  of  his  flaming  satin  vest,  put  his  shining  boots  as  far 
apart  as  comfort  allowed,  and  throwing  his  small,  round 
head  back  until  the  cigar  in  the  corner  of  his  lordly  mouth 
stood  up  like  a  stove-pipe,  he  responded  : 

"  Beg  pardon  for  dissenting  from  your  sapient  judgment, 
Mr.  Tomlin;  but,  in  my  most  humble  opinion,  Colonel  Hen- 
ley's address  was  immeasurably  exalted  to  an  eminence 
far  beyond  Mr.  Eldon's  capabilities  to  attain.  Mr.  Eldon's 
powers  of  oratory,  sir,  are  emphatically  and  incontestably 
ordinary  —  ordinary,  sir,  in  the  literal  acceptation  of  the 
term.  .  He  betrays  a  lamentable  deficiency  in  genius  and 
reprehensible  neglect  and  inconsiderateness  with  reference 
to  the  segregation  of  labials,  which,  by  an  oral  combina- 
tion, produce  euphony  upon  the  tympanum  of  the  sen- 
tient organ,  while  Colonel  Henley's  oration  was  ornate, 
and  replete  with  all  the  transcendent  expletives  of —  " 

"  Go  to  the  devil  with  your  dictionary,  you  barrel  o'  soap  ! 
I  say  Wall 's  a  trump,  and  no  mistake,  —  bumped  Hen's 
knowledge-box  with  a  witness,  and  no  dodgin' !  Say,  Major, 
what 's  the  price  o'  this  calico  ? " 

"  Twelve  'n  half  cent." 

"  Twelve  kingdoms !  W-h-e-w  !  Say  ten,  and  it 's  a  go  — 
plank  down,  and  no  grabbin'." 

"  Can't  do  it ;  cost  me  leven  'n  New  York." 


132 

"  Crackee !  — that 's  a  whopper !  But  I  'm  bound  to  try- 
it  on,  or  the  old  woman  '11  buzz  about  my  ears  like  green 
flies  round  'lasses  -  flitters !  Cut  me  off  eight  yards,  old 
Skinflint,  and  charge  it  to  the  town-pump.  I  say,  fellers, 
I  '11  bet  a  gallon  of  old  Griper's  best,  "Wall  and  that  little 
blaek-eyed  Ed  '11  make  a  match  of  it." 

Edalia  started  convulsively,  and  struggled  to  retreat ; 
but,  throwing  an  arm  around  her  waist,  he  held  her  firmly 
but  gently. 

"  Please  let  us  go,"  she  pleaded,  with  crimson  face. 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  he  said,  softly ;  but  she  did  not  see 
the  lips  that  uttered  it,  and  the  eyes  that  searched  for  hers. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  inform  you,  Mr.  Tomlin,"  said 
Peter,  "  that  Mr.  Eldon  is  affianced  to  Miss  Bentley ;  and 
I  have  it  from  an  authentic  source,  that  their  nuptials  will 
be  consummated  as  early  as  compatible  with  his  financial 
affairs." 

"  Creation  !  —  you  don't  say  ?  Well,  I  live  too  fur  in  the 
woods  to  be  posted  in  such  things;  but  I'd  a-swore he  loved 
her;  and  you  may  take  my  hat  if  the  gipsy  don't  love  him 
—  no  two  ways  'bout  that  I  've  been  an  amorous  swain 
once  upon  a  time,  and  it  did  me  good  to  see  the  round  tears 
shine  in  her  black  eyes  to-night,  while  Wall  was  put'n  hell 
to  the  Colonel.  I  '11  take  that  bet  back,  Pete ;  can't  afford 
to  waste  a  gallon  on  a  lost  game.  She's  an  all-fired  pretty 
girl  —  prettiest  one  in  these  parts,  now  that  '  Bertha  the 
Beauty  is  gone  —  no  two  ways  about  that !  " 

A  slight  tremor  was  perceptible  in  the  manly  arm  that 
gradually  tightened  around  Edalia  during  this  speech,  re- 
sisting her  efforts  to  escape. 

"  I  importunately  implore  your  most  gracious  and  mag- 
nanimous lenity  for  a  duplicate  dissent  from  your  mature 
judgment,  Mr.  Tomlin;  but  in  my  opinion,  Miss  Redmond's 
personal  attractions  are  by  no  means  above  mediocrity,  in- 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         133 

controvcrtibly  ;  and  her  mental  acquirements  and  constitu- 
tional temperament,  I  am  fully  qualified  to  assert,  operate 
as  a  centrifugal  —  " 

"I  say,  old  Closefist,  give  this  man  a  dose  o'  peppermint. 
He  's  swallowed  Walker,  and  run  aginst  a  snag  !  Jim-i-ny ! 
Well,  I  'd  a  bet  a  cool  hundred,  he  and  Ed  would  a  fixed 
it!  Splendid  match  it  would  make,  on  the  equal  division 
plan  ;  for,  thanks  to  his  old  rum-guzzling  father  (like  me !  ) 
Wall 's  poor  as  market-milk,  and  she 's  rich  as  cream-crust ! 
Say,  old  Money  tight,  give  us  another  bung-starter.  I  'm 
goin'  to  have  one  more  blow-out  with  brandy,  and  then  sign 
the  Pledge ! " 

A  roar  of  laughter  followed  this  announcement. 

"  I  tell  you,  fellers,  I  've  got  waked  up  to-night ;  I  b'lieve 
nature  meant  me  for  something  more  'n  makin'  worm-fences, 
with  a  brick  in  my  hat;  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  —  but 
mum  's  the  word,  boys ;  a  man  's  bound  to  stick  up  for  his 
country  and  his  wife!  Goin'  to  marry  Agnes,  eh?  Je- 
miny  !  " 

A  footstep  was  heard  advancing ;  they  left  their  position 
and  hastened  homeward,  proceeding  in  unbroken  silence,  until 
Mr.  Redmond's  hand  fell,  jocularly,  upon  Walter's  shoulder. 

He  started  and  spoke,  but  his  voice  was  strange  — 
sepulchral ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

LITTLE  CHARLIE.  —  "NO  HOPE." 

THE  old  clock  in  the  corner  chimed  one.     Agnes  rose 
and  bent  over  the  slumberer.     The  long  brown  lashes 
lay  in  thick  fringe  upon  her  snow-white  cheeks.     She  was 
12 


134         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

lovely,  but  sadly  changed  from  the  bright,  brilliant  Minnie 
Montrose  of  other  days. 

A  tiny  wail  came  from  the  downy  cushions  of  a  cradle- 
bed  and  touched  the  sensitive  ear  of  the  young  mother.  She 
opened  her  languid  eyes  and  whispered : 

"  Charlie." 

Agnes  lifted  the  wee  thing  in  her  wThite  arms,  and  laid  it 
sobbing  upon  the  bosom  of  its  girl-mother.  She  pressed  its 
round  chubby  cheek  to  her  thin  face,  and  raising  her  dim 
blue  eyes  to  Edalia's,  murmured : 

"  Has  he  come  ?  " 

"  Not  yet.     Try  to  sleep,  Minnie  dear ;  it  is  not  so  late." 

She  turned  away  with  a  suppressed  and  shuddering  sigh, 
whispering : 

"Lost!  lost!" 

Two !  rang  out  upon  the  death-like  stillness  of  night  — 
ebbing  away  —  away  in  the  dim  distance  —  it  died. 

Footsteps  echoed  in  the  hall,  heedless  and  dull.  The 
chamber-door  was  thrown  rudely  open,  and  Charles  Chester, 
bloody  and  blustering,  reeled  into  the  room. 

"Sh,  Charles,"  —  and  Edalia  pointed  to  the  sleeper. 

He  drew  his  hand  abstractedly  across  his  brow,  crept 
cautiously  to  the  bedside,  and  gazed  remorsefully  upon  the 
wan  face  of  the  young  sufferer.  The  scene  half  sobered  him, 
and  recalled  his  scattered  senses.  He  laid  his  face  upon  the 
pillow,  and  groaned : 

"  Wretch !  " 

"  Charles,  there  is  blood  upon  your  face !  It  would  kill 
her  to  see  you  thus  ! " 

Dr.  Montrose  led  him  unresistingly  from  the  chamber. 

Agnes  sank  back  amid  the  velvet  cushions  of  the  old  arm- 
chair and  sobbed,  as  the  young  husband  and  father  passed 
with  unsteady  step  through  the  closing  door. 

Edalia  sat  at  her  feet,  and  leaned  her  head  upon  the  chair- 
arm. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  135 

"  Oh,  Edie !  what  a  scene !  So  noble,  and  yet  so  lost ! 
There  is  no  hope  now,  Edie!  The  last  pale  star  is  extin- 
guished !  He  has  descended  to  a  depth  where  reputation  is 
lost  in  indifference  !  " 

Edalia  made  no  reply,  but  "no  hope"  lingered  upon  her 
ear  and  crept  startlingly  through  every  lane  of  memory. 
The  brightness  of  two  short  weeks  was  overcast,  and  the 
sunlight  gathered  behind  the  gloom,  only  gushed  through 
transparencies  in  the  dense  black  cloud,  to  trace  in  letters 
of  fiery  light  —  "  no  hope !  " 

Sitting  there  at  the  feet  of  the  betrothed  bride  of  him 
whom  she  had  feared  and  shunned  as  fated  to  stand  in  the 
same  relation  to  her,  without  power,  on  her  part,  to  escape 
her  destiny,  Edalia  wondered  and  choked  at  the  conviction 
of  the  great  change  that  had  come  over  her  since  that  feel- 
ingly far-distant  time — seventeen  months  ago. 

Sitting  there,  in  the  silent  chamber  of  the  broken-hearted 
wife  of  him  she  had  once  so  loved,  she  thanked  heaven,  from 
a  full  heart,  that  no  irrevocable  bond  bound  her  to  one  so 
fallen  and  irreclaimable. 

Sitting  there,  in  the  still  small  hours  of  the  ghostly  and 
grieving  night,  she  went  back  through  the  years  that  were 
gone,  and  wondered  why  God  had  chosen  them  —  the  once 
happy  and  love-linked  trio — to  suffer,  most  of  all  the  young 
and  merry  crowd  that  had  grown  up  to  blooming  woman- 
hood together.  Bertha  wTas  fading  fast  awTay  —  a  frail  ship 
at  sea,  tossed  by  the  rude  winds  and  rough  waves  ;  —  a  little 
longer  buffeting  of  the  swelling  waters  and  strengthening 
storm,  and  the  helmless  bark  would  go  down  beneath  the 
dark  billows  ! 

Minnie  was  dying  of  hope  deferred !  The  little  spring 
buds  that  jewelled  the  rose-tree  in  the  garden  of  her  youthful 
life  had  been  blighted  by  early  frost,  ere  their  green  cups 
had  held  the  fragrant  unfolded  blossoms.     The  last  one  that 


136  BEETIIA 

promised  fair  to  open  in  the  trembling  sunshine  of  a  new 
morning,  had  fallen  now  in  the  wintry  chill  of  a  starless 
night !  Soon  that  weak  heart  must  be  crushed  into  silence 
beneath  the  weight  of  its  withered  hopes,  and  she  would  be 
alone.  Alone!  —  nothing  to  reach  after  and  live  for! 
Nothing  to  lead  her  on,  day  after  day,  shining  up  in  the 
future,  with  promise  of  overtaking  it  after  a  while.  Life  was 
a  blank  sheet,  with  no  "  Watch,  Wait,  and  Hope  "  written 
by  fortune's  finger  for  her ! 

Edalia  held  her  breath  to  suppress  a  sob ;  Minnie  slept 
on  in  blissful  unconsciousness  of  her  husband's  fall  into 
deeper  degradation ;  Agnes  sat  very  still,  with  closed  eyes, 
and  small  waxen  hands  clasping  a  visible  prayer  ;  and  the 
soft  September  winds  made  sad  melody  around  the  eaves, 
blending  their  grieving  moans  with  her  mental  grief. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


KELATIVES. 


IT  is  a  low  dilapidated  frame  house,  in  Berkshire  County, 
Massachusetts.  Silas  Stanhope,  the  brother  of  Horace, 
is  the  proprietor.  Silas  is  a  good,  honest,  hard-working, 
humble-minded  man.  He  wears  a  shocking  bad  hat,  patched 
trousers,  brown  shirt,  and  no  shoes.  He  is  as  low  in  stature 
as  he  is  in  mind,  and  as  easy  in  disposition  as  Mr.  Belmont 
himself. 

Silas  has  a  small  "  farm  "  of  rocks  and  grass,  Indian  corn 
of  very  short  stalks,  Irish  potatoes,  and  thickly-set  onions. 

'The  "farm"  is  cut  up  into  small  squares,  triangles,  quad- 
rangles, ad  infinitum,  by  low  fences,  to  separate  the  onions 


137 

from  the  small  corn,  and  the  small  corn  from  the  big  rocks 
and  tall  grass. 

Beyond  the  low  dilapidated  frame  house,  the  "farm"  is 
pushed  up  by  nature  into  high  lands,  groaning  beneath  the 
weight  of  granite  piles  gathered  from  the  cultivated  parts 
by  immense  labor,  and  heaped  for  future  use  in  running 
stone  walls;  till  then,  a  snug  refuge  for  snakes  and  cunning 
chipmucks. 

The  high  lands  behind  the  frame  house  are  sacred  to 
winter-apple,  chestnut,  and  walnut-trees,  inaccessible  until 
the  growth  of  long,  suspicious-looking  grass  is  cut  short,  and 
raked  into  high  and  dry  hay  mounds.  Yankee  carefulness 
forbids  a  foot  upon  the  green  sea,  until  the  luxuriant  crop 
is  safely  beyond  the  injury  of  a  heedless  step.  You  must 
go  round  your  elbow  to  get  to  your  thumb,  where  grass  is 
cultivated  for  food. 

On  the  right  of  the  dilapidated  frame  house  is  a  good- 
sized  barn,  lonely  in  seeming,  as  is  indeed  the  whole  country 
around.  Turn  your  eyes  in  any  direction  and  they  hit 
against  hills  before  they  reach  the  length  of  their  line  of 
vision. 

And  dotting  those  hills  are  tiny  white  specks  of  houses, 
clinging  to  the  sides,  seemingly,  in  an  uncertain  state  of 
security,  with  little  sickly  lines  of  blue  smoke,  lazily  curl- 
ing from  the  small  cages  seeking  an  outlet  from  the  rock- 
bound  vale  in  the  upper  air. 

You  look  around  the  deep,  silent,  solemn  valley,  and  feel 
as  though  you  had  been  shipwrecked  in  sleep,  and  washed 
into  a  funnel ;  and  you  try,  day-long,  to  look  over  the  high, 
hard  rim  from  the  lonely  hollow  and  catch  a  cheering 
glimpse  of  the  broad  level  Beulah  lands  of  your  dear  sweet 
native  South. 

On  the  left  of  the  dilapidated  frame  house  is  a  cow-yard 
and  pig-pen;  three  cows  and  one  pig  are  the  occupants ;  and 
12* 


138         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Silas  Stanhope  and  three  sons  are  milking  and  feeding  the 
grunting  and  lowing  quadrupeds. 

Silas  wears  a  garment  over  his  pants  that  puts  you  to  the 
blush  with  its  peculiar  cut.  You  have  never  seen  it  worn 
in  that  fashion  before,  and  think  it  highly  unbecoming  as 
an  outer  garment ;  and  though  you  find  you  have  misnamed 
the  article,  it  does  not  lessen  its  likeness  to  the  original  nor 
increase  your  kindness  for  the  custom. 

There  are  no  flowers  or  flowering  shrubs  and  vines  about 
the  door  and  in  the  narrow  yard  before  the  frame  house. 
There  are  no  instruments  of  music  beneath  the  low  roof, 
besides  the  strong  lungs  of  a  Yankee  babe  and  cooking- 
utensils. 

Martha  Stanhope,  the  wife  and  mother,  is  a  large,  sun- 
burnt and  fire-faded  woman,  with  blue  eyes  and  black  hair. 
She  is  hard-working  and  weary-looking,  but  carries  a  kind, 
lovable  nature  under  an  unrefined  exterior.  If  you  con- 
verse with  the  tired  housewife  about  the  cares  and  vexa- 
tions of  this  life,  she  will  tell  you,  frankly : 

"  If  I  'd  known  I  should  've  had  five  children,  and  such 
a  lot  of  work  to  do,  I  never  would  've  married  !  " 

Silas  turns  his  good-natured  eyes  upon  her  as  he  sits  in  a 
home-made  chair  by  the  kitchen-fire,  and  smiles  in  his  easy, 
quiet  way.  Then  he  puts  his  bare  toes  nearer  the  warm 
blaze,  and  nods  after  his  hard  day's  work. 

It  was  Monday,  and  the  soap-suds  flew  and  hissed  under 
Martha  Stanhope's  flushed  face,  and  whitened  her  red  arms 
laid  bare  to  the  shoulders. 

"  Five  children  and  a  man  make  lots  of  work  for  one 
woman  every  Monday,"  she  said,  soberly. 

The  soap-suds  spattered  and  hissed,  and  the  baby  splut- 
tered and  cooed  as  it  crawled  around  the  kitchen  on  a  tour 
of  inspection.  Martha  Stanhope  said  her  baby  went  on  pick-it 
duty  every  wash-day,  while  her  arm-j  lay  in  clothes  quarters. 


THE    BEAUTY.  139 

Silas  made  an  unexpected  advent  into  Martha's  presence, 
with  an  unusually  brisk  step,  holding  an  open  letter  in  his 
brown  hand. 

"  I  say,  Mat,  Horace  is  married  !  " 

"I  want  tew  know!  "said  Martha,  squeezing  the  soap-suds 
from  her  red  arms  and  drying  them  with  her  apron. 

"  Sure  'a  a  gun,  Hor  's  married  ;  to  a  Southern  beauty  at 
that,  and  worth  seventeen  thousand  dollars ! " 

"Dew  tell!"  ejaculated  Martha,  wiping  the  perspiration 
and  soap-suds  from  her  face  and  smoothing  out  her  apron  to 
dry.  "  Wall,  Horace  is  ra-al  harnsome,  and  I  don't  wonder 
he  done  so  well." 

"  I  hope  he  hain't  deceived  the  girl,  and  not  git  intew 
trouble  when  he  's  found  eout.  Horace  is  harnsome,  but  a 
sad  dog  —  never  would  settle  down  tew  honest  work,  but 
must  run  oft"  tew  New  Yorick  as  counter-hopper ;  and  now 
he  's  way  down  in  North  Caroliny  'mong  the  nasty  niggers, 
and  married  tew  a  rich  beauty !  Here  it  is :  '  Bertha  the 
Beauty  '  —  that 's  what  she  's  called." 

"  Be  they  com  in'  on  ? " 

"  Guess  not  —  narthin'  said  'bout  it  in  this  document. 
Mr.  Belmont,  his  father-in-law,  has  set  him  up  in  business 
—  has  a  good  store,  and  if  he  settles  down  soberly,  he  may 
dew  well.  But  I  have  my  doubts  if  the  boy  has  sowed  all 
his  wild  oats  yet.  If  she  has  Southern  fire  in  'er,  she  '11 
burn  'im  some  time,  if  he  's  the  same  Horace  that  used  tew 
work  on  my  farm.     You  remember  Sue  Tolman?" 

"  Yas  ;  an'  it  broke  her  heart !  Horace  is  dreadful  jeal- 
ous-minded —  that 's  so." 

"If  his  wife  is  fiery,  he  won't  break  her  heart;  but  she'll 
break  his  head,  if  he  treats  her  as  he  did  Sue.  If  he  'd  mar- 
ried that  girl,  as  he  promised,  't  would  a'  bin  worse  for  her 
an'  better  for  the  one  he 's  got  now,  I  'm  thinkin' ! " 

"  I  wonder  Horace  married.     I  set  him  down  for  an  old 


140         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

bach'.  Such  harnsome  men  don't  often  marry  —  they  're  too 
vain  and  fond  of  flirtin'  with  the  girls  ;  and  Horace  -was 
dreadful  proud  of  his  beauty  and  precious  self  generally. 
And  then,  he's  only  twenty-three." 

"  The  fellow  's  in  love ;  I  can  see  that  as  clear  as  you  can 
my  nose.  And  that  '11  make  it  all  the  wTorse  for  her ;  for 
he  '11  torment  'er  tew  death  or  fury  with  his  green  eyes. 
Horace  is  the  jealousest  rascal  that  ever  lived  after  Blue- 
beard. Why,  he  showed  it  in  everything.  If  mother  give 
me  a  piece  of  pie  as  much  bigger  than  his  as  I  was  of  him, 
he  'd  cry  for  another  bit,  tewr  be  even  with  mine.  No  girl 
ever  loved  a  boy  better  'n  Sue  Tolinan  did  him,  and  he 
deserted  'er  from  suspicion,  and  broke  her  heart!  And  that 
ain't  all.  There 's  Annette  Lynn,  whose  good  name  he 
ruined;  and  the  Lord  knows  how  many  more!  And  all 
because  his  face  was  harnsome,  an'  beauty  made  'im  vain." 

"  Yas  ;  Horace  thought  he  had  the  world  in  a  sling  and 
could  heave  it  over  the  moon,  because  the  girls  showed  their 
hook  before  the  fish  bit.  I  wonder  if  Bertha  courted  him, 
or  he  her?  I  don't  know  the  Southern  style,  but  I  must 
say  it 's  about  half-and-half  here,  since  my  day ;  perhaps 
three-fourths,  wTith  the  girls!  It  dooz  beat  the  world  how 
they  do  court  the  men,  nowadays  !  " 

"  Horace  will  do  well  enough  if  he  can  keep  the  green 
out  'n  'is  eyes.  He  has  a  good  heart,  an'  is  a  rale  gentleman 
outside.  I  hope  he  did  n't  pass  himself  off  as  the  nephew 
of  John  Jacob  Astor  —  it's  like  'im,  though.  He  always 
was  proud,  and  held  a  head  higher  than  his  purse.  I  'd  like 
tew  know  if  he  's  fooled  the  girl.  If  he  has  he  '11  get  burnt, 
I  '11  bet ;  for  they  say  them  Southern  girls  spit  fire  !  Wall, 
I  don't  know  how  you  feel  about  it,  but  I  have  a  sort  o' 
notion  it  won't  end  well.  I  wonder  girls  will  marry 
strangers." 

"  You  know  the  old  saying,  '  Strange  faces.'      If  she  's 


BEAUTY.  141 

rich  and  beautiful,  she  loves  him,  of  course  ;  or  she  would  n't 
a-took  him  and  left  better;  for  there 's  always  plenty  tew 
run  after  money,  if  there 's  no  beauty  along  with  it;  and  a 
little  love  will  forgive  a  good  many  sins.  But  perhaps 
Horace  hain't  deceived  her,  at  last." 

"I  don't  know  —  Horace  never  set  out  for  a  thing  but 
he  'd  have  it  at  any  cost  of  truth  and  honor.  And  the  way 
he  loves  her,  from  the  talk  of  this  letter,  I  would  n't  trust 
'im  for  honesty.  He  never  had  much  of  it  in  his  best  days, 
for  he  was  continually  running  intew  debt,  without  any 
prospect  of  gettin'  eout ;  and,  in  the  end,  some  of  us  would 
have  tew  foot  the  bill  tew  save  his  credit !  He  give  me  a 
saddle  once  worth  fifteen  dollars,  and  in  a  week  he  took  it 
away  tew  help  pay  a  bill  he  'd  run  up  in  Pittsfield.  And 
the  whole  of  that  bill  ain't  paid  tew  this  day  —  the  dis- 
honest dog !  " 

"  If  Bertha's  property  gits  intew  his  hands,  there  won't  be 
much  left  of  it  in  a  few  years,  I  dew  think  !  Horace  is  the 
only  spendthrift  —  or  '  black  sheep,"  as  they  call  him  —  in 
the  family  ;  the  rest  of  'em  know7  how  tew  keep  money  well 
enough.  Horace  never  could  hold  on  tew  a  dollar  long 
enough  tew  keep  seed  in  his  pocket  tew  swear  by.  It 
slipped  right  through  his  fingers  tew  feed  his  w7hims ;  and 
then  he  'd  borrow  as  long  as  a  body  would  lend,  and  trust 
tew  luck  tew  carry  him  threough." 

"  Yas,  that 's  so.  And  he  always  got  threough  with  my 
money,  or  some  of  his  family's,  who  had  more  care  for  his 
character  than  he  had  himself,  until  he  took  that  saddle  tew 
pay  for  his  meanness,  i"  shan't  square  any  more  bills  for 
him  —  I  veow  !  I  should  n't  wTonder  a  mite  if  he  was  in 
debt  when  he  married,  and  his  wife's  father  '11  have  tew 
settle  the  claims !  And  won't  that  stir  up  his  new  relations, 
I  'd  like  tew  know  ?  " 

Even  while  Silas  was  privately  commenting  upon  his 


142  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

brother's    worth,  Mr.  Belmont   was    paying   the  merchant 
and  tailor  in  Williamsville  for  Horace  Stanhope's  wedding- 
suit  !    He  had  married  the  old  man's  daughter  without  suf- 
ficient means  in  his  purse  to  pay  for  his  bridal  outfit ! 
It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Mr.  Belmont  exclaimed  : 
"  Oh,  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath  !  " 
It  was  then  that  Bertha  discovered  her  husband  had 
neither  honor  nor  sense  of  shame ;  and  the  respect  he  had 
inspired  by  his  refined  deportment,  tender  devotion,  and 
personal  charms,  fell  silently  away,  and  left  her  hopeless 
and  helpless  —  fastened  by  Fate,  to  a  mockery  of  manhood, 
with  the  Gordian  knot  of  a  lifelong  vow 

The  Southern  merchant  and  tailor  smilingly  informed  the 
mortified  and  offended  father  : 
"  It  was  only  a  Yankee  trick !  " 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

EDALIA   BETRAYS   HER   SECRET   SORROW.  —  WALTER 


LOB,'  bless  yer  heart,  honey !  Miss  Min  's  nuthm'  but  a 
shadder !  I  tuck  them  grapes  in  rnyse'f,  an'  I  'clare, 
honey,  I  like  ter  bust  out  cryin'  the  minit  I  seed  'er!  I 
don't  b'lieve  she  '11  live  long  —  po'  thing !  She  looks  pine 
blank  like  Miss  Evy  'fore  she  died!"  And  Aunt  Cora 
groaned,  as  she  moved  about  the  tea-table. 

"Did  you  see  Charles,  aunty?" 

"  Yes,  chile ;  he  was  dare,  lookin'  as  sorry  an'  sick  as  ef 
'e  was  set'n  by  's  mammy's  grave  wid  de  baby  in  'is  lap ! 
Bless  its  little  heart,  it  dunno  what  trouble  it 's  born  ter  in 
dis  wicked  worP,  honey  — po'  thing !     Ef  Mars  Charles  on'y 


143 

would  sign  de  Pledge,  as  da  calls  it.  But  it 's  mighty  hard 
ter  break  loose  when  de  brandy  is  got  holt  on  'em  onct.  Ter 
think  Mars  Charles  Chester  would  ever  git  drunk  an'  fight ! 
Bakes  alive!  I  don' blame  'iiu  fur  whippin'  'im,  do,  honey, 
fur  my  ole  man  ses  how  he  was  at  de  store  comin'  from  de 
quarter  ter  see  me,  an'  hearn  Mars  Peter  talkin'  some  big 
words  'bout  Miss  Min,  an'  de  fust  he  knowed  Mars  Peter 
was  a-rollin'  on  de  floor,  an'  Mars  Charles  'long  top  on  'im  ! 
Dat's  all  brandy's  good  fur,  honey  —  ter  ruin  characters 
an'  break  hearts !  Rum  is  jest  like  de  ole  sarpint  in  de 
'Rabian  Nights,  what  Mars  Wallie  used  ter  read  ter  you, 
chile,  when  he  was  a  little  boy.  Jest  let  'im  git  out  'n  de 
bottle  onct,  an'  he  '11  swell  an'  swell  ter  a  big  giant ;  an'  it 's 
mighty  hard  work  ter  fool  'im  back  ergin,  an'  git  a  .chance 
ter  put  in  de  stopper  on  'im !  Dey  better  not  tech  it  at  fust, 
honey.  I  hopes  my  little  missus  '11  never  see  trouble  'bout 
dat  —  ole  Aunt  Cory  does." 

"No,  for  I  shall  never  marry,  aunty." 

"  Shaw  !  —  you  thinks  so  now,  chile,  but  you  '11  git  marred 
bumby,  honey  —  ole  Aunt  Cory  knows  you  will.  I  hopes 
it  won't  be  ter  a  mean  Yanky,  do,  like  Miss  Bert — po' 
thing !  I  hearn  Mars  Peter  say  she  looks  like  a  ghose,  an' 
Mars  Belmont  has  turned  her  husban'  out  o'  doors  fur  his 
meanness.  She  better  not  a  had  'im  at  fust,  honey.  'Pears 
like  de  pootiest  gals  is  de  mose  onluckiest  —  it  does  so! 
'Cause  why  ?  Dey  haves  so  many  chances  dey  dunno  which 
ter  take  fust,  an'  dey  gits  de  meanest  at  last !  Miss  Aggy 
is  de  lucky  chile.  I  wishes  Mars  Wallie  'd  never  gone  ter 
Verginny ;  I  'd  gin  anything  ter  see  you  an'  him  marred, 
honey  —  I  sot  my  heart  on  it  long  ergo.  Di  says  she  seed 
Miss  Aggy's  weddin'-frock  at  Miss  Crissy's  dis  mornin'  — 
white  muslin  all  kivered  over  wid  lace,  an'  satin  buttons 
and  bows.  Miss  Crissy  tole  Miss  Hattie  Simpkins,  't  was  in 
a  whisper,  an'  Di  hurd  it.  Ain't  you  gwine  to  be  brides- 
maid, honey  ?  " 


144  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  I  don't  know,  aunty ;  Agnes  has  never  spoken  to  me  on 
the  subject." 

A  choking  sensation  seized  Edalia ;  she  turned  away,  and 
leaned  upon  the  window-sill. 

The  round  October  moon  threw  a  shower  of  silver  radi- 
ance through  the  old  sycamore  limbs,  sweeping  the  slum- 
berous eaves,  down  upon  the  red  leaves  and  sparkling  grass ; 
spreading  a  soft,  misty  gauze  over  the  moaning  tree-tops  in 
the  dusky  grove ;  and  a  whippoorwill  set  up  its  plaint  off 
in  the  moonlit  hazy  woods,  waking  the  painful  hush  of 
nature  with  a  pulse  of  life. 

A  wind-waft  came  up  from  the  silent  graveyard,  dimly 
outlined  in  the  gray  of  twilight,  moaning  through  the 
boughs,  and  sweeping  onward  with  a  low  and  pensive  sound, 
far  away  through  the  mellow  moonlight  —  and  the  great 
heart  of  night  stood  still. 

A  hand  was  laid  gently  upon  the  young  girl's  bowed 
head,  and  a  gay  voice  startled  her  sluggish  blood  to  a 
swifter  flow. 

"  O  Edie !  twine  the  laurel  around  the  Victor's  brow ! 
The  day  is  won,  and  —  why,  Edie  ?  " 

His  light  tone  died  away,  and  he  stood  looking  at  her, 
sadly  and  in  silence. 

"  In  tears,  Edalia !  —  why  does  she  weep,  aunty  ?  " 

"  Lor'  bless  yer  heart,  chile,  I  dunno,  honey !  She  jes 
bin  talkin'  ter  Aunt  Cory,  piert  as  a  cricket !  What 's  de 
matter  wid  de  chile?  " 

"Nothing,  aunty,  but  the  cool  wind  and  flower-pollen 
vexing  my  weak  eyes.  And  you  have  triumphed,  Walter? 
Let  me  congratulate  you  upon  your  success  at  the  com- 
mencement of  your  professional  career." 

Disregarding  her  reference,  he  turned  and  said,  mischiev- 
ously : 

"  Tell  me  what  she  was  talking  about,  aunty." 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         145 

"  Oh,  ever  so  many  things,  honey  —  'bout  Miss  Min  an' 
Murs  Charles,  an'  Miss  Aggy,  an'  —  " 

"And  what  of  Agnes?"  he  interrupted. 

"She  did  n'  say  nuthin' — on'y  I  was  tellin'  'er  'bout  Miss 
Aggy's  widdin'-frock.  When  is  you  gwine  ter  be  marred, 
honey  ?  " 

'*  In  about  five  years,  aunty." 

"  Luddy,  chile  !  de  white  frock  '11  turn  yaller  'fore  then, 
sakes  alive !  " 

"Come  from  that  window,  Edalia ;  the 'cool  wind  and 
flower-pollen  are  vexing  your  weak  eyes  '  again." 

With  a  bright  smile  and  glowing  cheek  he  drew  her  hand 
within  his  arm  and  led  her  into  the  parlor. 

He  placed  her  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  candle-light,  and 
leaning  over  to  command  a  fair  view  of  her  face,  said : 

"  When  is  Agnes  to  be  married  ?  Be  still,  Edalia,  and 
answer  me." 

"  I  don't  know.     She  has  not  made  me  her  confidante." 

He  smiled  strangely. 

"  Whom  is  she  to  wed,  Edalia  ?  " 

"  I  am  utterly  ignorant." 

"  But  what  says  rumor?  " 

"  Mr.  Eldon,  I  object  to  this  catechizing  when  your  in- 
formation far  surpasses  mine.  Allow  me  to  remove  from 
this  glare ;  it  is  absolutely  blinding." 

"Mr.  Eldon!    Edalia  !  this  from  your9 

"  Forgive  me,  Walter  ;  I  —  " 

A  suffocating  sensation  rendered  abortive  every  effort  to 
articulate  another  syllable. 

He  put  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  lifting  her  face 
with  his  open  palm,  laid  her  head  back  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  looked  down  in  her  moist  eyes. 

"Forgive  you?     I  could  not  do  otherwise.     I  know  to 
whom  report  gives  Agnes,  and  from  whom  it  originated  — 
13  K 


146         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Peter  Simpkins.  Did  you  really  credit  the  assertion, 
Edalia?" 

"Yes." 

"  Then  let  me  say  to  you,  Edie,  that  I  have  never  desired 
to  be  more  than  &  friend  to  Agnes.  Why  how  you  tremble, 
little  girl !  And  there 's  a  sparkling  pearl  peeping  out  from 
its  silken  covert  —  and  another  !    My  dear  Edie !" 

"Walter  Eldon  strained  her  to  his  bosom,  and  kissed  her 
lips  and  forehead  with  more  passion  than  he  had  ever  dis- 
played before. 

Then  he  seated  her  on  the  sofa,  and  addressed  her  with 
brotherly  seeming  and  confidence. 

"  No,  Edalia,  I  have  never  loved  Agnes ;  and  even  if  it 
were  not  so  —  " 

His  lips  compressed  firmly — he  rose  and  traversed  the 
apartment. 

"  I  should  not  marry  for  years  to  come.  There  are 
obligations  to  be  repaid,  before  incurring  a  new  responsi- 
bility." 

His  face  grew  white,  and  his  form  proudly  erect.  He 
resumed  his  seat  beside  her,  and  looked  long  and  mourn- 
fully upon  her  face. 

"  Ah,  Edie,  before  I  can  shake  off  the  galling  chains  of 
dependence,  you  will  be  the  bride  of  some  favored  one  of 
fortune ! " 

"  No,  I  shall  not,  Walter." 

His  countenance  lighted  up  —  his  bosom  swelled.  He 
moved  impulsively  towards  her,  with  words  visible  in  his 
luminous,  heavenly  blue  eyes,  but  subjecting  his  nervous 
faculties  to  the  domination  of  a  powerful  will,  he  restrained 
his  impulsiveness  and  conversed  calmly  and  with  fraternal 
seeming. 

Walter  had  made  his  debut  as  a  lawyer  in  Bertha's  native 
town,  and  had  triumphed. 


THE    BEAUTY.  147 

Edalia  now  bethought  her  to  inquire: 

"  Where  is  uncle  ?  " 

"He  remained  in  town.  Bertha  is  coming  home  with 
him  to-morrow  —  her  husband  is  gone." 

Edalia  sprang  up  and  danced  at  the  glad  news  of 
Bertha's  coming,  till  the  laughing  young  man  caught  her 
up  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  off  in  triumph  to  the  supper- 
room  as  the  bell  sounded  the  call. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

BERTHA    RETROSPECTS   THE   PAST. 

AMI?" 
Bertha  uttered  the  words  softly  as  she  sat  alone  in  her 
chamber,  looking  off  at  the  pale  golden  stars  spangling  the 
broad  blue  of  a  slumberous  June  night  —  looking  away  out 
through  the  violet  depths,  yet  seeing  nothing  but  the  dark 
lines  drawn  along  the  soiled  leaf  of  her  inner  life. 

"Ami?" 

And  the  small  mouth  shut  more  firmly,  and  the  small 
white  hand  wandered  restlessly  through  the  short,  shining, 
brown  curls  that  fluttered  over  her  lily-white  forehead,  and 
the  shadow  of  a  thought  was  in  the  brown  depths  of  her 
introverted  eyes. 

And  what  was  Bertha  thinking  about?  And  what  did 
the  poor  tired  heart,  beating  time  to  the  death-dirge  of  its 
ruined  hopes,  answer  to  the  mysterious  words  : 

"Am  I?" 

The  poor  tired  heart  gave  a  fuller  throb,  and  sank  away 
down  under  slow,  soft  pulses,  and  answered  not  a  word  —  it 


148  BERTIIA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

was  afraid  to  utter  what  it  felt,  lest  it  should  condemn  itself. 
But  "God,  who  is  greater  than  the  heart,  and  knoweth  all 
things,"  heard  the  deep  thoughts  under  those  slow,  soft 
pulses,  and  the  spirit  rapped  out  on  the  table  of  feeling  the 
mystic  monosyllable : 

"No!" 

And  Bertha's  brown  eyes  smiled  very  faintly  as  they 
looked  off  into  the  blue  vista,  thickly  sown  with  stars,  and 
mellow  with  moonlight ;  and  the  heart  under  those  short, 
brown  curls  pulsed  on  with  an  evener  beat  as  thought  rolled 
up  in  dark  waves  from  the  shadowy  past,  and  ran  in  little 
silvery  rills  off  through  the  slumberous  eve  and  the  mellow 
moonlight  into  the  veiled  future,  and  the  poor  tired  heart 
asked,  as  it  dreamed  on  and  on  all  alone  in  the  purpled 
eve-light : 

"When  will  it  end?" 

Only  one  year  of  married  life  had  gone,  and  Bertha  won- 
dered if  the  clouds  and  storms  of  that  one,  that  had  bruised 
and  blighted  her  young  life,  would  not  suffice  for  the  years 
that  God's  omnipotent  hand  might  hold  to  fold  around  her 
future  fate. 

Horace  Stanhope  was  gone,  and  the  quiet  that  fell  around 
her  life  was  sweet  to  the  heart  that  had  so  long  struggled  in 
the  wild  waves  of  discord  and  uncongeniality. 

Day  after  day,  his  atheistic  and  tyrannical  soul  had  crept 
from  the  deceptive  covering  that  concealed  it,  until  it  stood 
forth  in  all  its  deformity  and  hideousness;  and  the  little 
tendrils  of  wifely  feeling  that  might  have  been  nurtured  by 
tender  forbearance  and  manly  worth  into  strong,  vigorous 
vines  of  affection,  trailing  around  his  life  and  embowering  it 
with  cooling  shade  and  sweet  blossoms,  fell  away  seared  and 
blasted  by  the  rude  shock  of  his  dishonorable  and  cruelly 
exacting  nature. 

Horace  Stanhope  was  an  atheist,  and  Bertha  grew  cold, 


149 


with  8udd«D  surprise  and  dread,  as  she  drew  forth  the  vil- 
lanous  works  of  Hume  and  Voltaire  from  their  concealment 
among  his  effects,  and  made  the  shuddering  discovery  of 
her  husband's  masked  principles.  She  consigned  the  in- 
iquitous volumes  to  the  flames,  and  reduced  them  to  ashes 
without  his  knowledge.  She  did  not  wait  to  consider  the 
consequences  —  Horace  Stanhope  never  saw  the  wicked 
works  again.  He  smiled  when  the  deed  was  voluntarily 
acknowledged,  and  essayed  to  defend  his  faith.  Bertha 
stood  aghast  at  the  sophistry  employed  to  extenuate  his 
great  guilt.  She  was  not  "  under  grace  "  herself,  but  she 
had  been  taught  from  babyhood  to  say,  "  Our  Father ; " 
and  her  belief  in  a  God  was  as  strong  and  clear  as  the  un- 
clouded midsummer  sun  at  noonday.  She  could  not  argue 
with  him  from  experience,  but  she  laid  the  Bible  between 
them  to  decide  the  all-important  question,  and  heard  it 
sneeringly  pronounced  "a  cunningly  devised  fable  !"  — an 
infidel's  invariable  resort. 

Bertha  never  reasoned  with  him  again  on  the  subject,  and 
Horace  Stanhope  made  no  effort  and  manifested  no  desire 
to  proselyte  his  believing  wife  to  his  own  unbelief.  But  he 
threw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  her  church-going,  until  Bertha 
surmounted  them  with  the  strength  of  an  unconquerable 
will,  and  successfully  resisted  his  authority  to  shut  her  out 
from  God's  holy  sanctuary.  Her  disobedience  furnished 
him  with  a  weapon  with  which  to  fight  her  own  faith,  and 
he  bravely  stabbed  the  religion  that  taught  wives  to  defy 
their  own  husbands ! 

"  '  We  should  obey  God,  rather  than  man  '  "  —  was 
Bertha's  parry  to  the  vindictive  thrust. 

Horace  Stanhope  was  kind  and  tender  during  his  wife's 
long  illness,  and  Mr.  Belmont  trusted  to  his  great  love  to 
reform  his  nature  and  correct  his  evil  tendencies.     The  son- 
in-law  deferred   openly  to   the   old   man's  judgment   and 
13  * 


150  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

advice,  but  secretly  he  chafed  under  the  restraint  that  pru- 
dence laid  upon  necessity. 

He  was  more  than  penniless,  and  Bertha's  father  estab- 
lished him  in  a  flourishing  mercantile  business.  His  affable 
manners  and  handsome  face  rendered  him  popular,  and 
prosperity  perched  upon  his  banner.  The  world  called  him 
a  "lucky  dog,"  and  made  merry  over  the  "  Yankee  trick" 
he  had  played  upon  his  credulous  father-in-law. 

But  with  Bertha's  recovery,  and  appearance  in  society, 
the  old  unrest  returned,  and  affairs  grew  darker  daily,  until 
they  culminated  in  open  rupture. 

Mr.  Belmont  found,  upon  investigation,  that  Horace  Stan- 
hope's business  prosperity,  in  which  he  was  interested,  was 
only  upon  the  surface.  The  funds  he  had  furnished  to 
found  the  establishment  were  all  expended  or  unaccount- 
ably invisible,  and  no  profits  forthcoming  to  replenish  the 
stock !  Horace  Stanhope  could  not  render  a  satisfactory 
account  of  the  missing  funds  and  lack  of  surplus,  and  the 
long  forbearing,  but  now  fully  aroused  father,  turned  the 
key  in  the  store-door,  and  indignantly  ordered  the  treacher- 
ous and  worthless  son-in-law  from  his  premises.  Mr.  Bel- 
mont said,  wrathfully : 

"  There  is  a  point  beyond  which  forbearance  ceases  to  be 
a  virtue ! " 

Horace  Stanhope  went  up  to  Bertha's  chamber,  laid  his 
wicked  head  upon  her  bosom,  and  wept  tears  of  hate,  and 
yearning  for  revenge  —  plaintively  attributing  them  to  an 
overwhelming  sense  of  innocence,  outraged  by  her  unjust 
and  unfeeling  father ! 

Tears  from  her  husband  was  no  unusual  sight  to  Bertha, 
and  they  failed  to  produce  the  desired  effect.  She  had  seen 
them  fall  from  his  large,  soft,  beautiful  eyes  on  every  occa- 
sion that  policy  found  it  expedient  to  awaken  sympathy, 
until  she  had  become  disgusted  at  the  unmanly  resort.    The 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  15i 

rain-drops  that  fell  from  Horace  Stanhope's  blue  eyes  had 
long  won,  in  Bertha's  home,  the  unenviable  designation  of 
"  crocodile  tears." 

Bertha  blushed  with  shame  at  the  sound  that  reflected 
such  discredit  upon  one  in  whom  her  own  individuality  was 
lost ;  but  she  knew  the  application  was  just,  and  she  shrank 
farther  within  herself  and  from  him. 

Horace  Stanhope  saw  the  breach  widening  between  them, 
and  he  grew  more  tyrannical  and  secretly  violent.  Bertha 
learned  to  fear  him,  not  that  he  was  brave  and  daring, — 
she  knew  he  was  the  reverse  of  valiant, —  but  she  distrusted 
the  sting  of  the  snake  in  the  grass,  in  his  hours  of  jealous 
rage,  until  her  spirit  rose  one  day,  after  her  long  confine- 
ment, when  he  sought  to  restrict  her  liberties  to  the  narrow 
limits  of  his  own  jealous  and  arbitrary  will,  by  incarcerating 
her  from  the  world. 

Horace  Stanhope  cowered  before  the  spark  of  spirit-light 
struck  out  by  the  flint  and  steel  of  constant  oppression  and 
perpetual  strife, —  and  Bertha  knew  her  husband  was  a 
dastard  as  well  as  tyrant. 

Bertha  Belmont  had  said  truly,  when  she  wrote  Edalia 
from  La  Violet  Seminary  : 

"  I  despise  meanness.  The  very  sight  of  a  mean  mortal 
nauseates  me."  And  the  daily  view  of  a  mean  spirit,  bear- 
ing so  close  a  relationship  to  her,  was  wearing  her  powers 
of  self-control  and  her  very  life  away. 

But  Bertha  was  as  easily  led  by  love  as  she  was  repelled 
by  unkindness ;  and  her  husband's  returning  tenderness  and 
words  of  penitence  covered,  for  a  time,  the  multitude  of  sins 
that  conduced  to  continually  recurring  clouds  and  storms  in 
their  domestic  horizon. 

And  now  that  his  chief  aid  in  obtaining  her  hand  had 
deserted  and  cast  him  off  for  his  baseness,  Horace  Stanhope 
exerted  his  softest  arts  and  sunniest  wiles  to  win  her  from 
her  home. 


152         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. • 

"  It  would  be  a  blow  to  the  old  man,  and  his  revenge  !  " 
he  said,  mentally ;  but  Bertha  heard  the  thought  expressed, 
by  his  torturing  lips,  when  it  was  too  late  to  retrieve  her 
loss ! 

"  You  promised  never  to  take  me  from  my  home,"  she 
said,  in  answer  to  his  pleadings. 

"  Without  your  consent,  my  wife." 

"  And  with  my  consent  you  will  not  take  me  now,  Mr. 
Stanhope.  You  have  no  means  to  provide  for  yourself, 
setting  aside  my  expenses.  It  would  be  the  part  of  pru- 
dence for  me  to  remain,  even  if  my  inclination  seconded  your 
wish." 

"  You  don't  wish  to  go  with  your  husband,  Bertha  ?  — 
driven  out  by  those  with  whom  you  will  remain !  Dear, 
will  you  suffer  me  to  leave  you  forever?  I  shall  never 
return  to  this  State  when  I  am  once  out  of  it,  Bertha." 

"And  I  shall  never  leave  this  State,  Mr.  Stanhope,  while 
my  parents  and  brother  are  in  it,  without  a  great  change 
that  I  fear  will  never  come." 

"  What  change,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  Recall  the  past  of  our  married  life,  Mr.  Stanhope,  and 
ask  yourself  if  it  seem  wise  an4  desirable  that  I  should 
abandon  a  quiet  home  and  tender  friends  and  go  out  into 
the  wide  world,  a  homeless  stranger,  with  one  who  has  not 
made  my  happiness  in  the  past !  " 

"  Dear,  you  will  have  no  cause  to  complain,  when  you 
leave  all  and  rely  upon  me.  You  have  never  been  wholly 
mine  yet,  Bertha ;  you  have  been  divided  among  many,  and 
your  love  for  and  dependence  upon  others  have  occasioned 
the  discord  in  the  harmony  of  our  wedded  life." 

Bertha's  lips  shut  tightly.  She  would  not  reproach  him 
for  his  unfaithfulness  to  her  father,  and  enumerate  his  many 
acts  of  cruelty  and  violence  to  herself;  but  to  resign  all  for 
him,  to  follow  his  fortunes  in  a  strange  land,  with  the  sick- 


BEKTIIA,    THE    BEAUTY.  153 

ening  odor  of  Hume  and  Voltaire  exhaling  from  his  spirit, 
was  not  in  her  thoughts. 

"Will  you  go  with  your  husband,  my  dear  wife?" 

All  the  softness  and  sweetness  that  Horace  Stanhope 
could  command  were  poured  into  those  words,  and  it  was 
pleasant  to  Bertha.  He  was  on  his  knees,  with  his  hand- 
some head  upon  her  shoulder  and  his  arms  around  her 
waist.  She  was  forgetting  the  past,  and  thinking  perhaps 
it  was  her  duty,  and  the  future  would  reward  her  for  the 
effort  to  perform  it.  He  saw  his  advantage  and  followed  it 
up  with  honeyed  words.  Hume  and  Voltaire  were  shut  out 
from  her  vision  by  his  enticing  smiles. 

"  How  can  you  obtain  funds  sufficient  to  take  me  ?  " 

She  looked  down  in  his  eyes.  There  was  a  steely  flash 
and  cold  glitter  of  triumph  that  chilled  her  like  ice. 

"  My  brother  in  New  York  will  furnish  the  needful,"  he 
said,  exultingly. 

"  And  how  will  you  repay  him  ?  " 

"  I  can  obtain  a  situation  in  the  city,  no  doubt." 

"And  if  not?" 

"There  are  no  'ifs'  about  it,  Bertha;  there  are  always 
openings  there  for  one  like  me,  who  understands  the  sales- 
man's business." 

That  resolved  her  back  into  herself.  He  understood  the 
business  so  well  that  it  had  driven  him  from  her  father's 
house!  She  saw  Hume  and  Voltaire  again,  and  was  no 
longer  charmed  by  the  charmer. 

"  Then  go  and  obtain  the  situation,  Mr.  Stanhope.  Repay 
all  your  pecuniary  obligations  ;  place  yourself  in  a  situation 
not  to  be  embarrassed  by  my  additional  expenses ;  and  if 
pa  then  refuse  to  receive  you  here  as  a  son-in-law,  I  will  join 
you  in  New  York." 

Horace  Stanhope  grew  white  with  disappointment  and 
wrath.   He  loved  his  beautiful  young  wife  as  well  as  he  was 


154  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

capable  of  loving  anything  beside  his  sensual  self;  and  the 
idea  of  leaving  her  among  her  old  admirers  for  so  long  a 
period  of  probation,  with  no  l}Tnx-eye  to  follow  her  day  in 
and  day  out,  wrought  him  to  fury.  He  did  not  consider  it 
was  his  own  misconduct  that  had  driven  him  out ;  —  he 
thought  only  of  the  necessity  that  was  upon  him.  He 
learned  to  value  her  more,  now  that  his  sins  had  separated 
between  him  and  his  heart  —  for  Horace  Stanhope  had  a 
heart,  though  it  was  so  grown  over  with  the  thorns  of 
iniquity  that  the  sharp  points  pierced  its  core,  and  tortured 
all  that  came  in  contact  with  it. 

"  Is  that  your  determination,  Bertha  ?  " 

She  saw  the  premonitory  symptoms  of  a  violent  eruption, 
in  his  whitening  lips  and  swelling  bosom,  and  tried  to  nerve 
herself  for  the  burning  lava  of  irrepressible  passion. 

"  Mr.  Stanhope,  I  cannot  go  with  you  now.  You  are  not 
in  a  situation  to  manfully  meet  the  liabilities  that  will  be 
incurred  by  my  compliance  with  your  request.  I  should 
only  be  a  burden." 

"  Dear,  with  you  I  shall  be  strong  to  labor  and  wait ; 
without  you,  it  will  be  impossible  to  succeed.  I  shall  die 
without  you,  Bertha  !  " 

She  had  heard  such  assertions  before,  and  knew  how 
much  they  were  worth  when  they  had  accomplished  his 
object ;  but  they  did  not  fail  to  affect  her  sensibility  almost 
to  tears,  under  the  circumstances. 

"  Mr.  Stanhope,  try  it  and  see." 

"  Is  that  your  final  answer,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  It  is  ;  but  let  us  part  peaceably,  Horace.  For  your  own 
sake  you  must  go  without  me  now.     I  am  —  " 

"  Yes,  for  my  sake !  for  my  sake  !  Good  Lord,  how  con- 
siderate and  loving  she  is !  Go  alone,  because  she  loves  me 
so  !  Try  it  and  see !  Yes,  try  it  and  die,  and  leave  her 
free  to  Harry  Herbert !  —  church-member  Harry  Herbert ! 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  155 

saintly  Herbert!  and  the  rest  of  the  infernal  scoundrels 
that  she  cares  a  damned  sight  more  for  than  she  does  her 
husband  !  Oh,  what  a  precious,  immaculate,  devoted  wife 
6he  is !  "  —  he  sneered  and  hissed,  as  he  walked  the  room  in 
a  white  heat. 

Bertha's  face  was  white  as  his  own,  now.  The  taunt  and 
sneer,  and  imputation  cast  upon  her  honor,  in  his  wild 
frenzy,  struck  fire  from  the  flint,  and  set  her  Southern  spirit 
in  a  blaze  of  indignation. 

"  I  never  said  I  loved  you,  Mr.  Stanhope,"  she  answered, 
coolly. 

He  turned  upon  her  fiercely,  as  the  chilling  words  fell 
from  her  scornful  lips. 

"  Then  you  don't  love  me,  madam  !  You  glory  in  your 
shame !  You  uttered  a  living  lie  at  the  bridal  altar,  and 
boast  of  it  now ! " 

"I  never  said  I  loved  you,  Mr.  Stanhope.  You  knew  all 
before  you  made  me  your  wife.  I  gave  you  timely  warning 
and  tried  to  avert  this  wretched  fate,  but  you  would  not  re- 
lease me.  I  am  not  responsible  for  the  unhappiness  that  has 
followed  that  fatal  nineteenth  of  June.  I  could  not  control 
my  destiny,  and  successfully  strive  against  my  fate  —  I  was 
a  child  in  stronger  hands.  It  is  folly  to  reproach  me  for 
what  I  vainly  tried  to  avert.  It  is  worse  than  folly  to  affect 
ignorance  now,  of  what  you  knew  from  the  beginning.  I 
respected  you  when  we  were  married,  and  I  should  have 
learned  to  love  you,  doubtless,  had  you  watered  the  germ 
of  affection  with  the  cool  dew  of  gentleness  and  nursing 
care,  and  not  frozen  it  in  its  earth-bed  with  jealous  tyranny, 
before  the  tender  buds  had  put  forth  in  the  warm  spring 
sunshine.  You  might  have  won  me  to  love  you  once,  but  I 
do  not  even  respect  you  now  !  " 

Horace  Stanhope's  fury  cooled  off,  as  her  burning  eyes  ate 
down  into  his  passionate  soul.     He  saw  the  game  was  up, 


156  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

and  he  had  "lost  a  day"  without  a  lucky  cut  of  his  fortune 
cards.  He  went  back  to  her  side,  and  wet  her  shoulder 
with  apparently  penitential  tears. 

"  Oh,  Bertha,  my  wife,  unsay  those  cruel  words  !  It  kills 
me  to  part  with  you,  and  you  add  to  my  misery  by  words 
of  scorn ! " 

"A  worm  will  turn  if  trodden  upon,  Mr.  Stanhope.  I 
said,  let  us  part  in  peace,  and  you  impelled  me  to  self-justi- 
fication by  sneers  and  insulting  insinuations.  I  am  no 
angel,  and  you  should  not  expect  from  me  the  unparalleled 
patience  of  a  Job.  I  have  earnestly  tried  to  perform  my 
duty  as  your  wife,  and  I  think  you  cannot  cite  one  instance 
of  disobedience,  except  in  obeying  Him  to  whom  I  owe  my 
first  allegiance.  I  am  no  Christian  in  experience,  and  have 
not  the  forbearance  of  a  saint.  I  regret  that  you  have 
driven  me  to  this  extremity  ;  let  us  forgive  and  forget  the 
past,  and  mutually  try  to  cultivate  a  better  spirit  in  the 
future." 

"You  will  not  forget  me,  Bertha,  when  I  am  so  far 
away  ?  " 

"  I  shall  never  forget  you,  Horace,"  was  all  she  said. 

And  so  they  parted  —  with  mutual  tears  and  pardons;  he, 
crushed  down  by  the  necessity  of  leaving  her  —  a  necessity 
brought  about  by  his  own  wickedness  —  and  yearning  for 
vengeance  upon  his  justly  incensed  father-in-law. 

And  Bertha  sat  alone  in  the  dewy  eve-light,  and  asked 
her  heart  if  it  was  sad  because  Horace  Stanhope  was  far 
away,  and  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  was  no  longer  heard  in 
her  quiet  home,  and  his  words  of  love  and  jealousy,  and 
wild  passion,  no  longer  soothed  and  irritated  and  tormented 
her.  But  the  tired  heart  sank  down  half  reprovingly,  and 
did  not  answer,  audibly,  the  low  query : 

"Ami?" 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         157 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
bertha's  friends  and  foes. 

MISS  WATRUFF  was  married,  and  gone  from  "the  Aca- 
demy "  at  the  "  Grove."  Miss  Watruff  had  "  caught " 
a  handsome  young  Southron,  with  her  black  eyes  and 
musical  talent,  and  her  Northern  principles  did  not  scruple 
to  marry  a  dozen  negroes  and  a  good  round  share  of  pro- 
fanity. 

Windsor  Burleigh  wras  handsome  and  rich,  but  not 
aristocratic.  His  beauty  compensated  for  a  deficiency  in 
mental  acquirements,  and  his  wealth  covered  all  constitu- 
tional sins  and  hereditary  transmissions  from  Miss  Wat- 
ruff's  wide-awake  eye. 

What  a  world  of  inconsistencies  there  is  on  the  outside 
of  this  beautiful  but  snake-bitten  earth ! 

Go  North,  and  you  hear  little  else  but  slavery  denounced 
and  slaveholders  anathematized. 

Go  South,  and  you  see  wandering,  money-hunting  Yan- 
kees marrying  the  "  institution "  as  rapidly  as  they  can 
wheedle  silly  girls  and  sillier  women  into  the  absurdity  of 
saying  "Yes!" 

Miss  Watruff  met  her  match  in  the  matrimonial  state, 
and  was  richly  repaid  for  her  injustice  and  unfeeling  de- 
portment towards  little  Bertha  in  years  gone  by.  The 
"  measure  she  meted  "  to  her  unoffending  young  pupil  was 
"  measured  to  her  again." 

Windsor  Burleigh  and  "Bertha  the  Beauty"  were  school- 
mates and  "sweethearts"  in  childhood  days;  and  our  hero- 
ine knew,  when  she  heard  of  his  marriage,  he  would  not 
be  crushed  by  coldness,  and  hurt  by  insults,  from  his  fair 
14 


158         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

bride,  as  she  had  been,  by  her  servile  teacher,  in  other 
years. 

Windsor  walked  rough-shod  over  small  things,  and  beat 
down  large  ones  with  powerful  oaths  and  tobacco-quids,  that 
made  even  stubborn  hearts  quail.  Bertha  liked  the  youth, 
but  feared  his  strong  language ;  and  his  manhood's  soul  was 
as  strong  as  his  school-day  words.  Windsor's  wife  died  be- 
fore she  broke  her  husband's  heart. 

Dora  Wilmer  was  now  a  "finished  young  lady,"  with 
many  lovers  of  her  father's  fortune  fluttering  around  his 
delicate  daughter.  Dora  was  not  handsome  in  the  slightest 
degree,  saving  her  long,  black,  silky  eye-lashes,  that  lent  a 
peculiar  interest  to  her  pale  blue  eyes.  She  was  dainty  in 
person,  and  tricked  out  in  all  the  glittering  paraphernalia 
that  country  wealth  could  £>rocure. 

Dora  was  really  a  good  girl  at  heart;  apart  from  her 
mother's  influence,  she  was  an  amiable,  lovable  woman. 
She  was  destitute  of  vanity,  and  cared  no  more  for  men  and 
manners  than  a  child  in  pantalets  and  short  frock. 

If  a  lord  of  creation  in  broadcloth  and  shining  boots, 
with  Chesterfield  grace  and  dignity,  careful  to  please  the 
"  young  heiress,"  urged  her  to  favor  him  with  music  against 
her  inclination,  Dora  would  "  swear  she  would  n't ! "  and 
her  singular  style  of  expression  was  set  down  by  her  host  of 
admirers  to  "privilege  "  and  "peculiarity." 

There  was  a  handsome  carriage  standing  at  the  yard-gate 
of  the  "  Grove."  Ellen  Wilmer  was  the  occupant,  and  her 
little  boy  and  a  black  nurse.  Mrs.  Ellen  Wilmer  had  just 
arrived  from  Williamsville,  and  stopped  a  while  at  her 
uncle's  gate  on  her  way  to  the  "  old  place."  She  evidently 
had  news.  Colonel  Wilmer,  wife,  and  daughter,  were  stand- 
ing near  the  carriage.  Mrs.  Ellen  Wilmer  was  speaking 
fast,  with  pleased  eyes. 

"  Bertha  Belmont's  husband  has  run  away  and  left  her." 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         159 

"  I  thought  so.  I  knew  nobody  could  live  with  her  in 
peace  ! "  and  Mrs.  Colonel  Wilmer  clasped  her  bony  hands 
and  looked  strangely  unsympathizing. 

"Oh,  la!"  ejaculated  Dora,  stretching  her  pale  eyes, 
soberly. 

"  Damn  him !  "  muttered  the  Colonel,  looking  daggers  at 
his  smiling  wife. 

Mrs.  Ellen  went  on,  glibly : 

"  He  's  stole  all  old  Belmont's  money,  and  broke  him  up 
root  and  branch,  and  run  off  from  his  wife,  who  is  breaking 
her  heart  about  him,  and  the  disgrace  of  the  whole  affair. 
They  say  they  've  lived  like  cat  and  dog  ever  since  their 
marriage.  Old  Belmont  let  it  all  out  after  Stanhope  stole 
his  money  and  put  out  for  Yankee-land." 

"I  wonder  he  did  n't  kick  him  out,  neck  and  heels,  before 
he  ran  off,"  snarled  the  Colonel.  "The  Lord  knows  I 
never  liked  the  looks  of  the  fellow ;  handsome  he  was,  to 
be  sure,  but  there  was  a  sneaking,  snaky  look  about  the 
rascal  that  I  never  liked;  and  they  say  Bertha  married 
him  against  her  will ;  her  father  fancied  him  —  I  've  heard 
so." 

"Fudge!"  sneered  Mrs.  Colonel  Wilmer,  "don't  you 
believe  it !  She  never  would  have  done  better !  I  pity  the 
man  if  he  is  a  Yankee  !  I  know  her  —  the  poor  and  proud 
impudent  fire-eater ! " 

"  Now,  Helen !  "  warned  her  liege,  "  don't  say  '  fire,'  when 
you've  got  enough  of  it  yourself,  and  some  to  spare. 
Bertha  was  a  wonderfully  smart  girl,  with  just  spirit  enough 
to  defend  herself  and  her  rights.  I  never  liked  poor  people 
who  would  lie  down  in  the  dirt,  and  let  rich  ones  walk  over 
'em.  '  Bertha  the  Beauty '  won't  do  that,  you  may  bet !  The 
fellow  's  a  scoundrel,  and  the  poor  girl  deserves  a  better  fate. 
I  've  heard  sly  rumors  about  his  dishonesty  and  jealousy 
of  his  wife's  beauty.     I  s'pose  they  tried  to  keep  it  in  and 


1G0         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

hide  his  meanness.  I  'd  like  to  twist  the  rope  that  would 
hang  him,  by !  " 

Colonel  Wilmer  was  not  a  profane  man  habitually,  and 
it  was  only  on  occasions  of  unusual  excitement  that  the  for- 
bidden words  slipped  out. 

"  Poor  Bert !  I  'm  re-al  sorry  for  her  !  "  and  Dora's  face 
testified  to  her  truthfulness  despite  her  mother's  angry  eyes. 

"That's  right,  my  girl,  always  talk  up  for  the  right." 

Colonel  Wilmer's  great  clumsy  arms  gave  Dora  a  good 
hug  for  her  honesty,  and  his  good-natured  mouth  met  hers 
with  a  "  buss  "  that  might  have  been  heard  at  a  consider- 
able distance. 

Mrs.  Ellen  Wilmer's  carriage  rolled  away  from  the  Grove, 
and  Dora  ordered  the  ponies  out  for  a  horseback  ride.  Dora 
was  overflowing  with  the  great  news,  and  must  pour  it  out 
to  Edalia  and  Minnie,  before  her  blue  eyes  could  rest  in 
slumber. 

She  had  outgrown  her  childish  envies  and  jealousies,  and 
forgiven  the  snaps  and  snarls  of  juvenility.  Her  father's 
disposition  was  more  perceptible  in  the  young  lady  than  it 
had  been  in  the  little  girl.  Dora  sprang  upon  the  pony's 
back,  and  throwing  a  kiss  from  her  fingers  to  her  fat  and 
lazy  father,  who  was  stretched  upon  the  porch  settee,  with  a 
little  negro  kneeling  at  his  head,  cracking  hairs,  she  galloped 
away  from  the  Grove  and  up  the  broad,  white  road,  with 
black  Harry  on  the  match  pony,  following  hard  behind  his 
young  mistress. 

Minnie  was  sitting  with  Edalia,  when  Dora  burst  in 
without  the  slightest  ceremony,  in  her  "peculiar"  and 
"  privileged  "  way. 

"  Oh,  Ed  —  Min,  that  rascal  Stanhope  from  Yankeedom 
has  run  away  and  left  Bert,  and  stole  all  her  father's  money 
to  boot ! " 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Edalia. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  161 

"  That  's  Yankee  -  like !  "  exclaimed  Minnie.  "  Poor 
Bert!" 

"  Yes,  poor  Bert !  —  /say,  poor  Bert !  She  looked  like  a 
ghost  when  I  saw  her  last  spring,  and  I  heard  some  whisper 
of  the  Yankee's  jealous  tyranny ;  but  I  set  it  down  to  ser- 
vants' slanders.  I  see  now  what  made  her  so  thin  and  pale 
—  poor  thing! " 

Dora's  eyes  looked  suspiciously  lustrous. 

"Maybe  it  is  n't  true,"  suggested  incredulous  Edalia. 

"No  guess-work  about  it.  Cousin  Ellen  has  just  come 
from  town  and  brought  the  sorry  news.  I  'm  glad  he 's 
gone,  I  declare,  if  he  had  n't  stole  Bert's  money,  and  broke 
her  heart !  Cousin  El  says  she  's  dying  about  him,  and  the 
disgrace  he 's  brought  upon  her  —  poor  Bert ! " 

"Don't  be  distressed  about  that,"  said  Edalia,  mysteri- 
ously. "  I  reckon  Bertha's  health  will  improve  speedily ; 
and  as  to  the  '  disgrace/  I  predict  it  will  follow  him,  and 
not  tarry  wTith  her.     But  did  he  really  run  off?  " 

"Yes;  Cousin  El  says  he  's  broke  Mr.  Belmont  root  and 
branch,  and  run  away  with  the  money.  And  you  know 
that  will  injure  Bert's  reputation,  if  her  husband  has  run 
away  from  her  —  poor  Bert !  " 

"  I  doubt  it.  There  are  two  sides  to  this  affair,  and  we 
have  only  seen  one.  Wait  a  little  till  the  whole  story  is 
out.     I  '11  write  to  Bertha  to-night." 

But  Edalia  did  not  have  to  wait  long  for  the  whole  story. 

Mr.  Tomlin  was  in  her  uncle's  office,  communicating  the 
whole  truth  to  Mr.  Kedmond  and  Walter.  He  had  just 
returned  from  Williamsville.  They  entered  the  apartment, 
where  the  three  friends  sat  discussing  the  same  subject. 

Mr.  Redmond  broke  forth,  jubilantly : 

"  I  say,  Ed,  Yankee  Belmont  has  kicked  Yankee  Stan- 
hope out  o'  doors,  and  he  's  clean  gone,  forever !  Hang  'im, 
let  'im  go !  " 

14*  L 


162  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

"  I  said  so  !  "  cried  Edalia. 

11  And  a  good  riddance  for  her  !  "  exclaimed  Minnie. 

"  Cousin  Ellen  said  he  stole  all  Mr.  Belmont's  money  and 
ran  away  from  Bert ! "  said  Dora,  in  amazement. 

"  Cousin  Ellen  has  got  hold  of  the  tail  instead  of  the 
head,"  said  Mr.  Tomlin,  roughly.  "  Instead  of  running 
away  from  his  wife,  he  tried  hard  to  get  her  to  follow  him ! 
But '  Bertha  the  Beauty '  had  cut  her  eye-teeth,  and  would  n't 
budge  an  inch  for  his  tears  and  prayers." 

"  I  thought  so,"  reiterated  Edalia,  significantly. 

"  Good  for  Bert! "  ejaculated  Minnie,  with  a  sad  smile  on 
her  sickly-looking  face. 

"  Well,  I  'm  re-al  glad  Cousin  El  got  the  wrong  story," 
said  Dora. 

"  Some  folks  always  take  snap  judgment,"  growled  Mr. 
Tomlin.  "  I  got  my  story  from  Mr.  Belmont,  and  no  mis- 
take. The  easy  old  man  has  got  his  eyes  open  at  last,  and 
his  dander  is  up  —  no  two  ways  about  that!  " 

"  Then  he  did  n't  steal  her  money?"  inquired  Miss  Dora. 

"  Not  exactly  as  you  put  it,  but  it  amounts  to  the  same 
thing  when  you  whittle  it  to  a  point.  The  goods  are  gone ; 
debts  to  pay  in  New  York,  and  no  proceeds  from  the  sale 
of  '  value  received  '  to  pay  'em  with.  If  that  ain't  twin 
sister  to  theft,  I  should  call  it  first  cousin  on  both  sides. 
Belmont  had  to  pay  for  the  clothes  he  married  his  daughter 
in  —  the  sneaking,  mean-spirited  Yankee  rascal  !  He  was 
jealous  as  a  Turk,  just  because  his  wife  was  so  beautiful  and 
universally  admired,  and  tried  to  shut  her  up  from  all  the 
world,  even  from  church.  But  Bert  showed  her  grit  there, 
and  he  could  n't  come  that  game.  She  was  always  a  re- 
markably modest  and  religious  little  thing,  and  would  n't 
give  in  to  bein'  left  in  the  lurch  there  —  you  may  bet!  I 
hope  she  flattened  his  Yankee  nose  for  it!  He  kept  the 
whole  family  in  a  stew,  everlastingly,  and  handled  that  poor 


THE    BEAUTY.  163 

child  pretty  roughly,  in  his  jealous  rage;  then  he'd  snub 
like  a  booby,  and  beg  her  pardon  on  his  knees.  Now  he  's 
been  kicked  out  of  the  house,  and  left  her  father  his  debts 
to  pay ;  and  no  one  knows  what  has  gone  with  the  money, 
for  the  rascal  did  a  flourishing  business.  I  wonder  they 
stood  it  with  him  as  long  as  they  did.  L  should  a  come 
down  on  'im,  long  ago,  like  a  fence-rail  on  a  green  snake!  " 

"I  shouldn't  think  Bertha  Belmont  would  love  such  a 
biped  as  that!"  said  Edalia,  nodding  her  curly  head  signifi- 
cantly at  Dora. 

"Love  him!  Creation  !  Belmont  coaxed  her  into  marry- 
ing him,  in  the  first  place,  —  and  now  he  's  got  paid  for  his 
sin.  I  did  n't  git  that  from  him,  though,  you  may  bet  high! 
It  was  all  over  town  before  her  marriage,  they  say,  but  kept 
dark ;  and  now  that  Belmont  has  let  the  cat  out,  nobody 
scruples  to  revive  the  old  story  and  censure  him.  Nobody 
can  tell  where  the  tale  sprung,  but  niggers  have  keen  eyes 
and  big  ears.  Love  him, indeed  !  'Bertha  the  Beauty'  ain't 
cut  after  that  pattern  !  I  saw  her  this  morning,  pretty  and 
timid  as  ever,  but  careworn.  She  longs  for  the  old  days  and 
early  friends.  Her  brown  eyes  filled  brimful  of  tears  when 
she  spoke  of  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza." 

"  Poor  thing ! "  said  Edalia,  shutting  her  mouth  very 
tight. 

"  Poor  Bert !  "  echoed  Minnie,  wiping  the  tears  from  her 
faded  eyes. 

"  I  wish  he  'd  lost  his  breath  before  he  ever  came  South  ! " 
snapped  out  Dora,  growing  very  white. 

"  A  bad  penny 's  pretty  apt  to  come  back  again,  and  I 
hope  Bertha  won't  think  it  her  bounden  duty  to  stick  the 
closer  to  a  bad  bargain,  if  the  rascal  turns  up  again.  If  she 
does  she  '11  do  it,  you  may  bet  your  pile  on  that!  "  growled 
Mr.  Tomlin,  as  he  strode  out  of  the  house  and  away. 


164         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY, 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

edalia  surprises  mr.  redmond.  —  night-scene  at 
"  jones's  store." 

AND  so  Agues  has  returned  ? "  said  Mr.  Eedmond,  as  he 
lolled  back  iu  his  easy-chair  before  a  blaziug  winter 
fire,  with  feet  elevated  to  an  astonishiug  height  upon  the 
mantel.  "  Only  went  to  play  bridesmaid  for  a  cousin,  eh  ? 
and  disappoint  the  wiseacres  hereabouts.  Wonder  what 
the  busybodies  '11  scare  up  next,  Wall,  my  boy  ?  But,  by 
Jupiter,  I  thought  so,  too !  and  p'rhaps  't  ain't  too  late  yet?'* 

He  looked  askance  at  the  young  man.     Walter  colored. 

"  I  shall  never  marry  Agnes,  sir." 

"Eh?" 

The  old  gentleman's  eyes  snapped,  and  his  heels  slid  down 
the  mantel  right  nimbly,  and  brought  up  on  the  fender  with 
a  ring. 

"  Eh  ?  well,  by  Jupiter !  I  thought  it  was  a  fixed  fact, 
and  so  schooled  myself  accordingly.     Did  n't  you,  Ed  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  You  did  n't !    Then  what  did  you  think,  you  gipsy,  eh?" 

"  That  I  received  my  information  from  a  reliable  source, 
uncle." 

"  Oh,  ho !  So  Agnes  let  the  cat  out,  and  bound  you  over 
to  keep  mum  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.     Agnes  never  alluded  to  the  subject." 

"  Hallo  !  —  what  the  deuce !  " 

He  looked  from  Walter  to  her,  and  from  her  to  Walter. 

"  Well,  I  'm  an  old  man,  but  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  can  read 
yet!  "  and  Mr.  Redmond  made  a  hasty  exit,  with  a  juvenile 
step  and  roguish  smile. 

Edalia  bent  over  her  sewing  industriously,  and  there  was 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         165 

a  long  pause.  When  she  looked  up  she  met  the  young 
man's  deep,  earnest  eyes  riveted  half  mournfully  upon  her 
free.     He  started  slightly,  smiled,  and  drew  out  his  watch. 

"Seven,  Edalia;  it  is  time,  if  you  would  call  for  Agnes." 

Di's  nimble  fingers  speedily  performed  their  accustomed 
office,  and  they  started  for  the  old  school-house. 

"Are  you  cold,  Edalia?"  queried  Walter,  as  they  ap- 
proached the  establishment  of  Tomlin  memory ;  wrapping 
her  furs  around  her  till  she  gasped  for  breath,  and  peeping 
cunningly  under  at  her  half-buried  visage. 

"  No;  but  I  shall  be  if  you  go  on  at  this  rate !  I  '11  thank 
you  for  a  little  more  air.  I  hope  Mr.  Tomlin  will  be  there, 
Walter."  | 

"So  do  I,  indeed." 

"Tomlin  —  Tomlin,"  repeated  Mr.  Redmond,  who  was 
growing  a  little  deaf,  and,  consequently,  a  little  more  in- 
quisitive than  formerly,  —  "  what  of  Tomlin,  young  ones  ? 
A  noble  fellow,  in  the  main,  but  has  a  termagant  wife,  I  'm 
told,  and  flies  to  the  bottle  for  refuge." 

"  A  roofless  refuge,"  returned  Walter,  with  a  sigh. 

"  So  it  is,  boy  —  so  it  is ;  the  frying-pan  and  the  fire ;  but 
thousands  of  poor  wretches  have  taken  the  leap,  impelled 
by  domestic  discord ;  and  Tomlin,  though  possessing  the 
elements  of —  by  faith,  there  's  Charles !  " 

They  stopped  mechanically  ;  and  among  the  crowd  gath- 
ered beneath  the  low  roof  of  "  Jones's  Store,"  they  discerned 
Chester, —  his  face  flushed  with  excitement  evidently,  —  Mr. 
Tomlin,  Colonel  Henley,  and  Peter  Simpkins. 

"  Edalia,  I  must  resign  you  to  uncle.  Charles  must  not 
remain  here." 

"Oh,  don't  enter  that  den,  Walter,  —  remember  'poor 
Tray ! ' " 

He  looked  down  with  his  beaming  blue  eyes  brimming 
with  soft  and  silent  eloquence. 


166  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"And  remember  Daniel,  Edie.  I  must  exercise  my 
powers  of  persuasion.  Go  with  uncle,  little  trembler,  and 
believe  me  not  too  brave  to  fly  from  danger." 

He  resigned  her  to  Mr.  Redmond,  with  a  lingering  pres- 
sure of  the  hand  that  lay  upon  his  arm,  and  sprang  up  the 
steps,  with  a  happy  smile  upon  his  handsome  face. 

A  shout  went  up  from  the  bacchanal  crew  within,  as  the 
door  closed  upon  his  tall,  manly  form. 

"  By  Jupiter,  here  's  a  pretty  stew ! "  ejaculated  Mr. 
Redmond. 

"  Why,  how  you  tremble !     Are  you  cold,  Ed?" 

"Not  a  bit,  sir.  But  I  don't  like  this  business,  uncle. 
Walter  will  stir  up  this  whole  nest  of  vipers  by  his  cold- 
water  presence,  and  I  fear  for  the  consequences." 

"  That 's  a  fact,  girl.  Come  round  this  corner  from  the 
keen  air,  Ed,  and  let 's  watch  the  signs  of  the  times  through 
this  loophole  of  a  window.  It 's  a  blasted  mean  trick  this 
eavesdropping ;  but  I  '11  be  hanged  by  the  ears  if  I  'm 
going  to  leave  the  boy  in  this  fix !  I  'm  bound  to  see  fair 
play,  if  the  odds  are  against  us.  There's  Henley  —  his 
animosity  is  burning  for  vengeance,  and  he'll  scruple  at 
nothing  to  accomplish  his  object,  and  involve  him  in  an 
'affair  of  honor.'  '  H-o-n-o-r  /'  If  he  does  succeed,  by  the 
beard  of  Joe  Smith,  I  '11 —  "  He  doubled  up  his  fist,  and 
looked  at  it  pugnaciously. 

During  this  effervescence  of  the  old  gentleman's  indigna- 
tion and  solicitude,  Edalia  was  watching  anxiously  the 
gyrations  of  the  motley  crew  within.  She  descried  Walter 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  room  in  low  but  earnest  conversa- 
tion with  Charles,  whose  varying  countenance  betrayed  his 
mental  excitement. 

"  Gen'lenien,"  said  the  intoxicated  and  reeling  Peter, 
"  walk  up  'n  lay  this  unction  t'  y'r  inner  man.  I  '11  stan' 
treat.  Dum  viv'  mus  vi'amus,  gen'lenien,  'n  go  to  glory  w'en 
we  shuf-fle  off  (hie  !  )  this  mor-mor-tal  coil  (hie  !  )" 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  167 

Mr.  Tomlin  turned  off  a  surprising  quantity  of  gold- 
colored  liquid  in  answer  to  this  invitation,  smacked  his  lips 
with  a  relish  over  the  empty  tumbler,  and  made  a  snake- 
truck  in  the  direction  of  Charles  and  Walter.  He  brought 
one  hand  down  heavily  upon  Charles 's  shoulder,  and  stam- 
mered out : 

"  Go  'long,  man,  'n  no  sneakin' !  Wall 's  right,  'n  no 
mistake ;  for  I  tell  you,  fellers,  there 's  death  in  the  pot,  'n 
no  'Lisha  to  tend  it !  " 

Walter  addressed  him  in  a  low,  indistinct  tone.  He 
wrung  the  young  man's  proffered  hand,  and  responded : 

"  Can't  do  it,  boy,  —  can't  do  it !  I  '11  own  I  ought  to  ; 
but  you  see  the  devil  got  into  my  pea-patch,  an'  pulled  up 
all  the  vines,  'fore  the  resolutions  ripened  —  raised  a  rum- 
pus gin'rally,  an'  I  jest  let  go  the  ropes,  an'  — an'  'm  goin' 
down  the  hill  to  hell  in  desp'ration!  Can't  do  it,  boy, — 
God  bless  ye  though,  I  know  you  're  right !  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  cried  the  insulting  Henley.  "  Go  it,  Tom  ! 
turn  the  grindstone  for  the  able  disciple  of  Coke  ! " 

Mr.  Redmond's  fingers  shut  around  Edalia's  arm  like  a 
vice  at  this  taunt.  The  blood  ran  icy  through  her  veins, 
and  she  held  her  breath  to  catch  his  reply. 

Walter's  face  was  livid,  but  not  a  muscle  moved  as  he 
turned  coolly,  and  bowed  to  the  Colonel,  with  a  slight  curl 
of  his  chiselled  lip. 

Henley  chafed. 

"Bravo,  my  boy!"  whispered  Mr.  Redmond,  rubbing 
his  hands  with  delight.  "Treat  him  with  silent  contempt. 
1 A  wise  man  prevaileth  in  power,  for  he  screeneth  his  bat- 
tering-engine ;  but  a  fool  tilteth  headlong,  and  his  enemy 
is  aware.'" 

A  ragged  inebriate,  in  the  highest  state  of  spirit-ual  feli- 
city, squared  himself  in  the  middle  of  the  aisle,  and  com- 
menced a  circular  movement,  catching  at  the  bystanders  to 


168         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

preserve  a  perpendicular  posture,  when  the  law  of  gravita- 
tion became  too  powerful  for  his  weak  head  to  resist,  and 
he  sang,  jubilantly : 

"  Old  Father  Matthew  an'  I, 
'Ow  merry  were  we, 

Wen  we  sot  un'er  the  June  apple  t'ee  — 
Ei'o! 

Put  'is  'at  on  'is  'ead, 
Keep  'is  'ead  warm, 

An'  take  'nother  d'ink  '11  do  'im  no  'arm  — 
Ei— (hie!)"      g 

He  staggered  up  to  the  counter,  and  acted  upon  the  sugges- 
tion, —  emptied  a  brimming  glass  that  descended  from  his 
nerveless  hand  with  a  concussion  that  shivered  it  to  atoms. 

The  dealer  in  sundries  anathematized  the  whole  race  of 
bipeds,  collectively,  at  this  casualty  ;  whereupon  the  oifender 
struck  a  pugilistic  attitude,  but  lost  his  equilibrium,  and 
disappeared  behind  the  counter,  to  the  terror  of  numerous 
toes  that  retaliated  for  their  excruciating  agonies  by  well- 
directed  and  hearty  kicks  at  the  prostrated  flounderer. 

" Gen'lemen,"  said  Peter,  "I'm  single  man,  gen'lemen, 
or  you  would  n't  see  me  'n  this  disrep'table  condition.  I 
know  I  'm  drunk,  feller-cit'zens,  but  I  've  no  wife  (hie !  ) 
to  mourn  over  my  d'plo'able  condition  'n  'nfatuation,  like 
Ches'er  yon'er  (hie  !  )  I  'm  free  'n  easy  bach'lor,  gen'lemen, 
'n  the  'njoymen'  of  all  the  'munities  of  that  f 'lic'tous  state, 
ad  lib' turn.  Walk  up,  cum  dign'iate,  gen'lemen,  'n  drink  to 
the  d'liv'rance  of  all  beauteous  brides  from  a  drunken  in- 
cubus (hie!  )    I'll  be  'sponsible,  gen'lemen." 

Edalia  glanced  at  Charles.  His  countenance  changed 
rapidly  —  alternate  red  and  white.  Walter  grasped  his 
arm,  and  they  moved  toward  the  door.  Mr.  Tomlin  tot- 
tered after,  sputtering  words  of  encouragement  to  Charles; 
and  Henley  sneered. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         1G9 

Mr.  Tomlin  saw  them  safely  shut  out,  but  resisting  Wal- 
ler's importunities  to  accompany  them,  he  returned  to  the 
counter. 

"  I  say,  Clutchem,  it 's  all-fired  cold  out.  Give  us  'nother 
neck-warmer.  I  'ra  goin'  to  take  one  good  leg-stretcher,  an' 
then  strike  a  bee-line  for  purgatory  !  " 

"  Poor  Tomlin ! "  said  Mr.  Redmond,  as  they  turned  away 
from  "  Jones's  Store." 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

ALONZO   STANHOPE'S   VISIT   TO    BERKSHIRE. 

rpHE  "farm,"  behind  the  dilapidated  frame  house,  in 
J-  Berkshire,  Massachusetts,  was  seamed  with  yellow 
ridges ;  and  the  evening  air  was  redolent  with  the  odor  of 
new  hay. 

The  cows  were  chewing  their  cud  in  the  yard,  exhaling 
the  scent  of  fresh  milk,  and  the  pig  was  munching  and 
grunting  in  its  savory  pen. 

Martha  Stanhope,  flushed  and  weary-looking,  was  prepar- 
ing the  evening  meal  of  pork  and  pickles,  cakes  and  pies  — 
and  tea ;  and  Silas  washing  his  big  feet  and  brown  hands 
at  the  "sink,"  after  his  day's  labor  of  haying  and  milking 
was  done;  when  the  sound  of  wheels,  drawing  up  at  the 
gate,  provoked  him  to  desist  from  the  process  of  ablution, 
and  listen. 

Silas  "  peeked  "  through  the  window,  and  started  up  very 
suddenly,  exclaiming  with  animation  : 

"  Wall,  ef  there  ain't  'Lonzo,  come  up  from  New  Yorick, 
I  .swan !  " 
15 


170         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

He  stepped  on  the  towel,  and  with  sundry  scrapes  and 
wriggles,  to  absorb  the  wet  and  avoid  tracking  the  floor,  he 
hurried  from  the  kitchen  out  to  the  gate,  with  one  clean  foot 
and  one  dirty,  hair  standing  on  end,  and  suspenders  flapping 
behind  him. 

Alonzo  Stanhope,  another  brother  of  Horace,  was  a  small, 
delicate  man,  with  an  air  of  city  refinement  about  him.  His 
hands  and  feet  were  small  ;  his  dress  &  la  mode;  and  his 
language  pruned  of  all  Yankee  provincialisms.  His  pale 
chestnut  hair  was  slightly  dusted  with  years ;  his  light-blue 
eyes  had  an  open,  frank  expression,  and  a  perpetual  smile 
sat  upon  the  ingenuous,  manly  face.  His  toute  ensemble  was 
that  of  a  man  that  could  be  trusted. 

Alonzo  was  a  land-broker  on  Nassau  Street,  New  York, 
and  doing  a  prosperous  business.  There  was  a  striking, 
painful  contrast  between  the  city  gentleman  and  the  country 
clown,  whose  big,  hard  hand  he  was  shaking  so  cordially. 
Not  the  slightest  resemblance  existed  between  the  two 
indicative  of  fraternity,  except  in  stature  and  the  color  of 
their  eyes. 

Silas  conducted  his  unexpected  visitor  into  the  "keepin'- 
room  "  —  which  was  a  large,  unfinished  apartment,  very 
plain  in  its  appointments  and  slender  in  details. 

A  home-made  carpet,  a  dozen  chairs  —  noticeable  only  for 
substantiality — a  small  table  supporting  a  smaller  looking- 
glass,  and  a  large  bed  in  one  corner,  made  up  the  inventory 
of  Silas  Stanhope's  "keepin'-rooin." 

Martha  Stanhope  pulled  down  her  calico  sleeves  over  her 
red  arms,  and  directing  Newton,  the  oldest  boy,  to  prevent 
the  feline  domestic  from  depredating  upon  the  table  —  or, 
in  Martha's  own  phraseology,  to  "keep  that  narsty  cat  from 
hookin'  his  grub!"  —  she  hurried  out  to  the  " keepin'-room." 

"  Wall,  neow,  ef  yeou  don't  beat  all,  'Lonzo  !  —  poppin'  in 
'pon  a  body  without  a  bit  o'  warnin,'  when  we  hain't  got 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  171 

narthin'  nice  enough  for  city  folks !  I  be  glad  to  see  ye, 
though.     Where  's  Hannah  ?  " 

Hannah  was  Alonzo's  wife. 

The  city  brother  replied,  that  Hannah  was  partially 
necessitated  to  remain  at  home,  as  Horace  was  up  from 
North  Carolina,  and  "stopping"  at  his  house.  His  face 
was  very  grave  as  he  communicated  this  information. 
Yankee  inquisitiveness  was  wide  awake. 

"  Yeou  don't  say !  "  ejaculated  Silas. 

"  I  want  tew  know!"  cried  Martha.  "  Be  his  wife  along?" 

"  No !  "  with  a  mysterious  shake  of  the  head. 

Silas  and  Martha  were  fully  aroused.  They  looked  at 
each  other  intelligently,  and  back  at  the  sober  face  from 
the  city. 

"Screw  loose  ?  "  suggested  Silas. 

"  Muss  ?  "  inquired  Martha.     "  Dew  tell !  " 

"  I  don't  clearly  comprehend  the  business  myself.  Horace 
has  failed  in  Carolina,  and  come  on  alone.  He  says  his 
wife  would  have  accompanied  him  but  for  her  father's 
threats,  of  whoin  she  is  childishly  afraid.  But  that  cistern 
don't  hold  water,  for  the  law  gives  a  man  his  wife,  and  no 
one  can  withhold  her  from  him,  if  she  is  disposed  to  follow. 
There  's  something  behind  the  face  of  affairs  that  I  can't 
ferret  out.  Horace  says  his  wife  is  devoted  to  him,  but  her 
father  is  his  foe,  for  some  incomprehensible  cause." 

"  P'raps  Bertha  is  afraid  of  losing  the  old  man's  money," 
suggested  Silas. 

"  Pooh  !  —  all  made  up  by  Horace's  pride.  Belmont's 
entire  possessions  won't  amount  to  seventeen  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  he  has  two  children.  Cooley,  of  the  firm  of  'Cooley 
&  Harman,'  with  whom  Horace  has  dealt  in  carrying  on 
his  business  in  the  South,  has  recently  returned  from  Wil- 
liamsville,  and  gives  an  unvarnished  statement.  Belmont 
is  a  Yankee  himself,  and  has  not  made  a  fortune  in  North 


172  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Carolina.  Horace  acknowledges  the  truth,  now,  and  treats 
his  deception  as  a  pleasant  joke !  He  's  my  brother  —  and 
I  'm  sorry  to  say  it  —  but  the  handsome  dog  is  unprincipled 
and  shameless !  " 

"  Them  's  my  sentiments,  chuck  threough  !  You  remember 
that  saddle,  'Lonzo  ? "  said  Silas,  with  an  indignant  scowl. 

Alonzo  Stanhope  first  smiled,  then  his  white,  even  teeth 
shone  through  his  parting  lips,  and  his  broadcloth  and  satin 
shook  with  silent  risibility.    He  never  laughed  aloud. 

"  Silas  '11  never  forgive  Horace  for  that  Indian  gift ! " 
tittered  Martha,  shutting  her  eyes  tight  as  she  laughed. 

"  I  had  a  use  for  that  saddle,  an'  Horace  owed  me  more 
'n  it  was  worth  ;  an'  I  swan  tew  man,  if  it  wrern't  mean  I " 
said  Silas,  waxing  hot  as  he  thought  of  his  loss. 

"  That 's  only  a  fisherman's  luck,"  returned  Alonzo,  try- 
ing to  suppress  his  mirthful  emotions  and  look  grave. 
"  He  owes  me  more  than  I  suppose  he  will  ever  repay ;  for 
he  's  come  on  without  means  sufficient  to  pay  his  board,  and 
relies  upon  his  brothers  for  present  aid.  I  've  got  him  into 
the  store  with  Allyn,  but  how  long  he  '11  stay  is  problemat- 
ical. Horace  is  too  erratic  and  improvident  ever  to  succeed 
in  business,  I  'm  afraid." 

"Like  as  not,  his  wife  ain't  as  harnsome  as  he  tells, 
either,"  suggested  Martha,  now  fully  sceptical. 

"Yes,  he  told  the  truth  there,  for  once.  It  was  her  rare 
beauty  that  went  to  his  heart  —  for  Horace  is  deeply  in 
love  with  his  wife — no  question  about  that;  and  I  hope  his 
affection  for  her  will  reform  him  at  last.  He  is  evidently 
very  unhappy,  and  exceedingly  anxious  to  make  money 
enough  to  return  to  Williamsville  and  set  up  business  inde- 
pendently of  her  father,  whom  he  hates  for  reasons  not 
satisfactory  to  my  mind,  as  I  can  gather  them.  Mr.  Cooley 
will  go  South  again  in  September,  and  I  rely  upon  him  for 
the  whole  truth  of  this  strange  affair.     There 's  something 


BEAUTY.  173 

untold,  or  Horace  would  not  have  left  his  wife,  and  suffer 
so  severely  for  it  as  he  evidently  docs." 

"Horace  is  dreadful  jealous  -  minded  —  maybe," — and 
Martha  left  her  hearers  to  fill  up  the  blank. 

"  That  is  my  fear,  from  some  things  that  have  incidentally 
transpired.  Horace  throws  all  the  blame  upon  Belmont; 
but  my  impression  is,  Bertha  would  hand  it  over  to  him. 
It's  a  mixed  up  mess,  anyhow,  and  one  can't  depend  upon 
Horace  for  straightforward  facts." 

"  I  said  he  'd  get  burnt,  when  I  heard  of  his  marriage," 
chimed  in  Silas,  taking  it  for  granted  the  suggestion  was 
correct.  "  They  say  them  Southern  folks  eat  fire  and  spit 
it  out  regular,  when  they  git  riled." 

"  An'  Horace  is  pooty  well  calculated  tew  rile  a  body's 
temper,  if  they  've  got  any  worth  mentionin'  —  I  swan  !  " 

"  Be  you  certain  that  Bertha  is  harnsome  as  Horace 
tells  ?  "  persisted  Martha,  whose  incredulity  and  woman's 
curiosity  were  fully  aroused. 

"Mr.  Cooley  bears  him  out  in  that  assertion.  He  saw 
Bertha  after  a  long  illness,  and  confirms  Horace's  declara- 
tion, notwithstanding  her  loss  of  bloom  and  vigor.  She  is 
celebrated  for  her  beauty  wherever  she  is  known,  and  had 
a  host  of  suitors  when  she  married,  despite  her  lack  of 
wealth.  Cooley  vows  she  has  the  sweetest  and  most  charm- 
ingly lovely  face  he  ever  beheld  ;  and  her  form  is  faultless." 

"  I  swan  !  "  said  Silas,  jerking  out  one  foot  to  shake  down 
his  pants. 

"  Dew  tell  neow !  "  echoed  Martha,  with  eyes  full  of 
interest  in  her  Southern  sister.  "Did  n't  Horace  paint  her 
with  his  tongue,  'Lonzo?  —  tell  us,  neow —  dew!  " 

"  She  has  rich  brown,  modest  eyes,  that  melt  and  brighten 

with    every  varying   emotion ;    golden  -  brown   curls    that 

catch  sunbeams  in  their  coils,  and  dance  and  ripple  over  a 

dainty  lily-fair  neck  and  shoulders,  and  around  a  delicate 

15* 


174  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

face,  snow-white  and  modest  as  a  violet.  Horace  says  her 
mouth  was  just  made  for  kissing — small,  velvety,  and  peach- 
hued  —  and  if  I  ever  have  an  opportunity,  I  '11  try  it  on  !" 

"  Yeou  'd  better  not  neow  !  "  warned  Martha,  as  soberly 
as  though  Alonzo  were  about  to  execute  his  threat.  "Horace 
will  git  mad  as  a  March  hare,  and  jealous  as  a  Chinee  — 
that 's  so  !  " 

"  Pooh  !  not  of  his  brother,  I  guess  ! " 

"  Makes  no  difference  who  ;  it 's  bred  in  the  bone  with 
Horace,  and  can't  come  out  of  the  flesh.  I  never  did  see 
the  beat  of  that  boy  ! "  said  Silas,  on  whose  '  farm '  Horace 
had  worked. 

"  Well,"  inquired  Martha,  who  was  not  yet  satisfied,  "  is 
she  little  or  large  ?  " 

"  Child-like  in  proportions,  a  little  below  the  medium 
height,  slender,  and  willowy  as  a  lily-stem.  Horace  says 
he  carries  her  about  in  his  arms  '  like  a  doll.'  " 

"Wall,  I  'd  like  tew  see  the  child  —  I  swan  !  "  said  Silas, 
pulling  his  suspenders  over  his  shoulders  and  fastening 
them  in  front ;  "  but  I  have  my  doubts  if  she  '11  ever  follow 
Horace  this  fur.  I  'm  afraid  he 's  got  crooked  down  there, 
an'  never '11  git  straightened  eout.  How  about  supper, 
mother  ? " 

"  Good  land,  if  I  did  n't  forgit !  And  jest  as  like  as  not, 
Newt  's  gone,  and  the  cat 's  took  the  table  and  cleaned  the 
cubberd ! " 

"  And  I  'm  hungry  as  a  bear,"  laughed  Alonzo,  as  she 
hurried  away. 

Martha  Stanhope  found  her  tired  boy  fast  asleep  beside 
the  baby's  cradle,  and  old  Tabby  lord  of  the  tea-table,  and 
lapping  the  cream  to  his  thirsty  heart's  content. 

"  Git  eout !  s'boy !  shu !  "  shouted  Martha,  clapping  her 
hands  and  stamping  her  feet  furiously,  —  forgetting,  in  her 
excitement,  the  usual  word  of  command  to  a  feline  offender. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  175 

Old  Tabby  cleared  the  room  at  two  bounds,  and  made 
his  escape  through  a  rear  window,  with  very  straight  tail 
and  dropped  ears,  and  slackened  not  his  speed  till  he  at- 
tained the  summit  of  the  "  stunheap,"  where  he  sat  down 
and  licked  his  whiskers  complacently,  looking  back  defiance 
at  his  wrathful  mistress,  who  shook  her  fist  and  sent  shrill 
anathemas  after  him  from  his  point  of  egress. 

Newt  was  effectually  roused  by  the  hubbub  occasioned  by 
his  negligence,  and  comprehending  the  unwholesome  state 
of  surrounding  circumstances  at  one  startled  glance,  he 
made  his  escape  through  the  back-door  on  all  fours,  before 
Martha's  ready  hand  could  reach  his  ears  as  a  "  constitu- 
tional amendment." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


I  WONDER  if  Charles  is  going  to  that  meeting?"  mut- 
tered Mr.  Redmond,  incredulously,  as  they  hurried 
toward  the  hall  of  convention,  where  they  arrived  —  accom- 
panied by  Agnes  —  a  moment  before  Walter  and  Charles 
entered,  arm  in  arm. 

They  stationed  themselves  on  a  vacant  bench,  immedi- 
ately in  front  of  Mr.  Redmond's  party  —  Charles  wearing 
every  appearance  of  a  culprit  going  to  execution. 

His  presence  produced  a  universal  commotion  among 
the  crowd;  surprise  and  curiosity  became  visible  in  each 
face  familiar  with  the  young  man's  previous  course. 

A  nervous  start  and  happy  flush  indicated  the  amazement 
and  pleasure  of  Agnes. 


176         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Walter  turned  and  bestowed  upon  Edalia  a  glance  of 
triumph  from  his  bright,  glad  eyes. 

A  thrilling  discourse  was  delivered  by  an  elderly  man 
with  long  flowing  hair  and  slightly  bowed  form,  whose 
personal  experience  was  the  most  prominent  and  touching 
feature. 

He  told  of  the  high  hopes  of  early  manhood  —  of  a  fair 
and  gentle  girl  who  plighted  her  troth  with  him  at  the  holy 
altar ;  whose  love,  like  the  green  vine  around  the  forest- 
oak,  blossomed  through  storms  as  in  sunshine.  He  depicted 
his  downward  tendency  from  the  pedestal  of  dignity  and 
joy  to  the  dark  abyss  of  degradation  and  woe  —  only 
awaking  from  his  lethargy  to  miss,  forever,  the  soothing 
hand  upon  his  brow  of  her  whom  he  had  destroyed !  She 
slept  in  the  quiet  churchyard,  the  innocent  victim  of  the 
simoom  of  Intemperance ! 

Symptoms  of  restlessness  were  manifest  in  Charles  during 
the  exordium,  but  the  peroration  found  him  with  chin  rest- 
ing upon  his  hand,  and  dark  eyes  riveted  wildly  upon  the 
speaker. 

The  orator  closed  with  the  admonition  : 

"Man  —  made  in  the  image  and  likeness  of  God  !  Man, 
fallen  and  degenerate  man  !  By  the  memory  of  the  mother 
who  watched  over  your  wayward  and  helpless  infancy,  and 
who,  perchance,  slumbers  now  in  silence  and  shade,  where 
no  word  from  her  warning  lips  can  come  to  plead  with  her 
darling  boy,  to  stay  his  steps  from  ruin  and  wretchedness; 
by  the  memory  of  the  glad  and  girlish  bride  whose  tender 
arms  entwined  you  in  manhood's  fair  morn,  ere  the  dark 
clouds  of  sorrow  and  desolation  rose  from  the  death-sea  of 
intoxication,  and  rolled  over  the  sunny  horizon  of  your 
peaceful  and  prosperous  years,  raining  destruction  upon 
your  Eden  of  life  and  love ;  by  the  helpless  ones,  whose 
onward  way  in  this  world  of  strife  will  be  darkened  by  your 


177 

Bhadow,  or  brightened  by  your  beams;  and  by  the  still 
small  voice  that  whispers  in  the  winds  and  the  waves,  in 
the  blue  sky,  and  the  green  earth : 

•  It  is  not  all  of  life  to  live, 
Nor  all  of  death  to  die,'  — 

arouse  from  your  apathetic  slumber,  and  exercise  the  powers 
with  which  God  has  endowed  you,  ere  the  last  bud  of  your 
heart's  joy  and  pride  falls  »from  your  side  to  the  voiceless 
tomb,  and  you  awake,  too  late,  and  go  forth  a  lone  wanderer 
in  the  pathway  of  life,  with  remorse  written  upon  your 
memory,  —  alone  —  like  your  speaker  !  " 

He  sat  down,  and  the  deep  hush  that  succeeded  was  at 
length  broken  by  the  light  footfalls  of  the  official  members. 

Walter  grasped  the  Pledge  and  presented  it  to  Charles. 
He  gazed  at  it  silently  and  undecisively  a  moment,  put  forth 
his  hand  to  receive  it,  but  drew  it  back  quickly,  and  a  deep 
flush  overspread  his  face. 

Walter  sat  down,  laid  his  arm  over  Charles's  shoulder, 
and  spoke  fast  and  earnestly. 

Edalia  grew  cold  with  suspense,  and  the  brown  eyes  of 
Agnes  looked  icy.  Charles  sat  like  a  stoic  —  stately  and 
frigid.  He  had  once  said  :  "  It  is  easier  to  resist  than  to  re- 
form." 

"  Gave  it  to  me,  Misther  Eldon,"  said  a  weather-beaten 
son  of  the  Emerald  Isle,  with  a  rich  brogue,  reaching  his 
hard,  sun-burnt  hand  across  Charles,  and  drawing  his  thread- 
bare coat-sleeve  across  his  watery  eyes;  —  "be  the  powers, 
an'  I'll  sign,  yer  honor.  Mike  Murphy  can't  stan'  the 
likes  o'  that,  yer  worship.  Be  the  memory  o'  me  ould 
mither  that's  dead  and  gone  —  the  houly  Mary  rest  'er 
sowl !  —  I  '11  make  a  clane  breast  of  it,  yer  honor,  an'  the 
whiskey  may  go  to  the  divil  —  faith  !  " 

He  seized  the  paper,  and  wrote  his  name  in  large,  round 

M 


178  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

characters,  with  a  big  bright  tear  rolling  slowly  down  a 
deep  furrow  in  his  careworn  cheek. 

Charles's  stern  features  relaxed,  as  he  looked  upon  this 
drop  of  affection  to  the  memory  of  a  lost  mother,  warm  from 
the  heart  of  this  old  time-tossed  mariner  on  life's  rough 
sea ;  he  received  it  from  his  brown,  toil-hardened  hand,  and 
traced  his  own  name  beneath  with  tremulous  fingers. 

Mr.  Redmond  grasped  a  hand  of  each  with  a  vigorous 
shake,  and  a  "Bravo,  by  Jupiter! " 

Charles  drew  himself  up,  with  a  long  respiration,  as  though 
relieved  of  an  oppressive  burden,  and  a  faint  smile  flitted 
over  his  features. 

Agnes  laughed,  with  the  round  tears  sparkling  in  her 
young  eyes,  like  dewdrops  in  spring  sunshine ;  while  Edalia's 
face  was  hidden  from  view ;  and  Walter  went  through  the 
crowd  with  a  firm,  proud  step,  and  quiet  smile  upon  his  ra- 
diant face. 

As  they  retired  from  the  room,  Edalia  observed  her 
uncle  cast  a  searching,  eager  glance  back  upon  the  orator 
of  the  evening,  with  a  melancholy  expression  in  his  wistful 
eye.  Mr.  Redmond's  face  had  the  seeming  of  one  living  in 
the  past,  oblivious  of  the  present,  as  he  turned  from  that 
searching  gaze  at  the  stranger's  countenance,  and  Edalia 
knew  he  sighed  softly  as  they  passed  out  of  the  old  school- 
house. 

"  Go  in  first,  Edalia,"  begged  Charles,  as  they  arrived  at 
the  door  of  Minnie's  apartment.     She  obeyed. 

Minnie  stood  bending  over  the  cherub  form  of  little 
Charlie,  fast  asleep  in  his  cradle-bed,  with  one  chubby  arm 
thrown  backward,  and  nestling  among  the  short,  golden 
curls  of  his  cunning  little  head,  peeping  brightly  out  from 
its  snug,  warm  nest,  "a  thing  of  beauty,"  and  "a  joy  for- 
ever," to  the  pale  watcher  beside  it. 

"  Minnie  dear,  the  Dove  has  returned  to  the  Ark !  " 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         179 

The  young  mother  and  heart-broken  wife  looked  at  her 
friend  wildly,  till  comprehending  the  blissful  reality,  as 
Charles  entered  smiling,  she  sprang  forward  with  a  low, 
glad  cry,  and  fainted  in  his  clasping  arms. 

"  'There  is  more  joy  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  than 
over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  that  need  no  repentance,'" 
said  Walter,  as  they  went  from  the  happy  pair  to  Mr.  Red- 
mond's bachelor  home. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


MEXTS. —  BERTHA    SEES 

STANHOPE  'S  come!" 
A  little  chill  crept  from  Bertha's  bounding  heart,  and 
ran  frosty  through  her  frame,  as  Mr.  Belmont,  with  sober 
face  and  slightly  vexed  tone,  made  the  sudden  announce- 
ment. 

"  Pa  !  "  was  all  she  said. 

"Now  we  shall  have  it,  ad  nauseam,"  continued  Mr. 
Belmont,  growing  indignant,  as  he  thought  of  the  past,  and 
anticipated  the  future.  "  Stanhope  has  no  fear  of  God  or 
shame  of  man,  and  no  reputation  to  lose  in  this  community, 
and  his  vindictive  spirit  will  do  its  worst  to  foment  disturb- 
ance in  this  family.  As  Job  said  of  the  day  of  his  birth, 
I  now  say  of  the  day  you  married  him:  'Let  it  not  be 
numbered  with  the  days  of  the  year ' !  " 

Mr.  Belmont  at  last  realized  fully  his  great  error  and 
wrong  in  influencing  his  daughter  to  unite  her  destiny  with 
one  of  whom  she  knew  nothing  and  cared  less.      He  knew 


180         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

it  was  all  the  work  of  his  own  hands,  and  }Tet  he  set  his 
wits  to  work  to  obviate  the  calamity  of  seeing  his  only  and 
idolized  daughter  go  forth  from  the  safe  shelter  of  his  roof 
with  the  worthless  husband  he  had  chosen. 

It  was  a  bitter  reflection  to  the  erring  old  man,  now  that 
he  feared  for  the  future. 

"  I  only  hope  he  won't  remain  long  in  this  section,"  he 
proceeded,  as  he  walked  the  floor  restlessly,  and  speculated 
upon  the  result  of  Stanhope's  wiles  to  win  his  wife  away. 
"If  the  fellow  had  gone  to  Ballyhack,  we  might  have  lived 
in  peace  ;  but  now  we  shall  have  crocodile  tears,  Pharisaic 
prayers,  and  promises  strong  as  Goliath  in  seeming,  but 
fragile  as  a  pipe-stem  in  reality.     I  know  the  man  !  " 

"  Well,"  after  a  long  pause,  and  silent  pondering  as  his 
firm  feet  traversed  the  apartment,  "  I  have  no  authority  to 
control  you  now,  my  child  ;  but  if  you  suffer  yourself  to  be 
deluded,  and  actuated  by  false  promises  and  apparent 
penitence,  I  feel  confident,  from  my  knowledge  of  the  man's 
principles,  you  will  see  the  day  you  will  regret  your  weak- 
ness in  relying  upon  one  so  base !  " 

Bertha  went  up  to  her  chamber  and  sat  down  by  the 
window,  where  six  months  ago  she  had  asked  herself  if  she 
was  sad,  for  that  Horace  Stanhope  was  far  away;  and 
shrank,  half  afraid,  from  the  feeling  answer.  Now  she 
asked  her  heart  if  it  was  glad  because  Horace  Stanhope 
had  returned,  and  Bertha  could  not  define  the  feelings  that 
ebbed  and  flowed  in  her  searching  soul. 

His  handsome  face  and  fond  unkindness  (Bertha  could 
only  translate  it  thus)  rose  up  vividly  before  her  young 
vision,  and  she  smiled.  Then  his  dishonesty  and  falsehood, 
his  atheism,  his  jealous  tyranny,  stood  out  in  full  and  for- 
midable proportions,  and  her  fair  brow  contracted  with  in- 
ward pain  and  foreboding. 

"If  he  were  only  a  Christian,"  she  said,  mentally,  "how 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         181 

I  could  love  him!  Ho  is  my  husband,  I  am  his  wife;  bound 
together  as  one  for  all  time.  God  only  can  sever  the  cord 
that  binds  us  for  weal  or  for  woe.  Perhaps  his  experience 
from  long  absence  has  taught  him  wisdom.  Perhaps,"  — 
and  Bertha  sat  still,  with  a  little  icy  ripple  skimming  the 
surface  of  a  warming  sea  of  thought. 

Ah,  when  Bertha  had  reached  the  "  perhaps,"  in  reason- 
ing with  herself  of  her  unworthy  husband,  there  was  no 
longer  security  for  her  strength  of  will  against  future 
events. 

"  Perhaps  he  has  reformed,  for  '  with  God  all  things  are 
possible,'  and  we  shall  live  happily  together,"  was  what 
Bertha  had  left  unsaid ;  for  secret  belief  conflicted  with 
thought  and  yearning  wish,  and  hope  could  not  give  birth 
to  words. 

"  I  will  wait  and  see,"  was  the  conclusion  to  her  long 
train  of  thought  awakened  by  Horace  Stanhope's  sudden 
advent  in  startled  Williamsville, — "and  let  coming  events 
cast  the  die  for  my  destiny.  I  wonder  if  he  expects  me  to 
return  with  him  to  New  York.     I  will  wait  and  see." 

And  she  waited,  but  not  long. 

The  quiet  town  of  Williamsville  was  soon  alive  with  the 
surprising  story  that  "Yankee  Stanhope,  the  handsome 
rascal,  had  opened  a  full  store  on  Main  Street,  and  was 
doing  finely,  —  owned  a  splendid  '  fast  horse,'  and  sported 
a  negro  servant,  and  carried  things  with  the  air  of  a  nabob." 

Bertha  smiled,  quietly,  but  made  no  comments,  as  did  her 
less  considerate  father  ;  but  she  was  equally  as  sceptical. 

"  I  '11  bet  any  amount  he  '11  fail  in  less  than  five  months," 
said  fearful  Mr.  Belmont  —  fearful  for  the  effect  of  Stan- 
hope's proximity  to  his  daughter,  and  unavoidable  views  of 
his  handsome  and  seemingly  repentant  face.  "Moreover, 
I  '11  wager  he  don't  own  one  dollar  of  all  that  goes  under 
his  name;  and,  like  as  not,  he  '11  get  into  jail  for  the  'fine 
10 


182  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

business '  he 's  doing.  I  pity  the  fellow  that  trusted  him  — 
that 's  all !  Well,  if  he  '11  steer  clear  of  me  and  mine,  he 
may  go  scot-free,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned.  I  've  had  enough 
of  him  for  one  lifetime."  And  Mr.  Belmont  tossed  a 
tobacco-quid  behind  the  back  log,  and  glanced  slyly  at 
Bertha  to  observe  her  expression. 

"  Pity  but  you  had  thought  so  from  the  beginning,  pa." 

"  Yes,  child ;  but  I  never  was  so  deceived  in  a  man  in  all 
my  born  days  —  hang  me,  if  it  ain't  so  !  " 

Mr.  Belmont  hitched  in  his  easy-chair,  nervously,  and 
expectorated  freely  in  the  direction  of  the  discarded  quid. 

"  And  now  it  is  too  late  to  repent,"  said  Bertha,  as  she 
turned  away. 

"  Hey  ?  "  interrogated  the  old  man ;  but  no  reply  came, 
for  the  speaker  had  passed  out ;  and  it  was  long  before  she 
sat  there  again. 

"  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  like  that ! "  said  the  doubting  father 
to  Mrs.  Belmont,  —  "  it  has  n't  the  right  sound  for  safety  !  I 
question  if  the  girl  don't  trust  to  the  villain's  promises  and 
make-believe  penitence,  and  run  off  with  the  rascal.  And 
the  next  we  know  he  '11  switch  her  away  to  New  York,  and 
break  her  heart  with  jealous  cruelty,  or  starve  her  to  death 
with  his  poverty ;  for  the  fellow  ain't  worth  shucks,  nohow ! 
Bertha  is  a  good  girl,  but  too  easily  led  by  kindness  ;  and 
the  mischief  of  it  is,  she  can't  discern  the  counterfeit  from 
the  current  article.  She  ought  to  know,  by  this  time,  how 
little  reliance  is  to  be  placed  upon  his  honor.  Well,  she 
won't  go  with  my  consent  —  that's  settled.  I'm  really 
fearful  the  scoundrel  will  commit  some  desperate  act  in 
secret,  and  claw  out  by  attributing  it  to  accident.  I  don't 
believe  her  life  is  safe  in  his  hands  —  he's  so  infernally 
jealous !  " 

While  Mr.  Belmont's  fears  were  thus  finding  vent  in 
anxious  words,  Bertha  was  going  with  triumphant  Horace 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  183 

Stanhope  to  the  "pleasant  room"  he  had  "prepared  for 
her"! 

Horace  had  smuggled  touchingly  beautiful  penitent  let- 
ters, brimful  of  fondest  love  and  solemn  promises  and  pious 
sentiments,  into  her  hand,  and  thrown  himself  in  her  way  on 
every  possible  occasion,  with  loving  reproach  in  his  sadly 
smiling  blue  eyes,  and  soft  snatch-kisses  upon  her  little 
white  hand,  until  Bertha  was  subjugated  by  her  husband's 
perseverance  and  tender  pleading ;  and  she  said  to  her 
heart : 

"  I  can  but  try.  It  is  my  duty  to  do  all  in  my  power  to 
render  him  happy,  now  that  I  am  his  wife.  I  shall  love 
him,  if  he  will  let  me ;  I  believe  I  love  him  now,  he  is  so 
handsome  and  tender.  He  looks  changed,  —  perhaps  we 
shall  do  well.     I  will  trust  to  him." 

And  so  Bertha  passed  from  her  father's  presence  down 
the  old  garden  to  the  back  gate,  where  Horace  Stanhope 
awaited  her;  and  the  exulting  husband  bore  her  off  in 
triumph. 

Bertha  left  her  home  secretly,  to  avoid  the  excitement  of 
an  open  departure.  She  was  so  delicately  constituted  that 
mental  stimulation  racked  her  head  with  torturing  pain. 
And  hence,  her  past  life  with  Horace  Stanhope  had  robbed 
her  of  vivacity  and  bloom.  She  was  now  healthful  and 
brilliantly  beautiful,  as  in  the  days  of  his  courtship ;  and 
Horace  Stanhope's  loving  but  depraved  heart  burned  with 
restless  desire  to  get  possession  of  his  bewitching  lovely 
young  wife.  And  so  elated  was  he  with  his  success  in 
"stealing  her  away  from  the  old  codger"  —  as  he  subse- 
quently expressed  it — that  full  seven  days  passed  peace- 
fully away  before  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  appeared  in  their 
domestic  horizon ;  which  was  an  unprecedented  event  in 
their  connubial  life  ;  for  not  one  week  had  passed,  after  their 
marriage,  before  Horace  Stanhope  humbly  apologized  for 


184         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

some  freak  of  his  unfortunate  disposition,  that  shook  up  the 
tears  to  the  brown  eyes  of  his  beautiful  young  bride. 

Bertha  was  beginning  to  feel  that  a  change,  radical  and 
permanent,  had  been  wrought  in  her  husband  during  his  long 
absence,  and  bright  hope  for  the  future  shone  in  the  zenith 
of  her  matrimonial  sky,  when  a  sudden  storm-cloud  swTooped 
up  from  the  low  horizon,  and  obscured  the  golden  beams. 
Then  she  said :  "  It  is  vain  to  hope  !  " 

Our  heroine  had  not  returned  to  her  home  since  the  day 
she  went  out  from  it  wTith  victorious  Horace  Stanhope  ;  but 
now,  in  answer  to  her  mother's  message,  she  was  preparing 
for  a  visit,  when  her  watchful  lord  entered  the  chamber. 

"  Where  now,  Bertha  ? " 

"Down  home,  —  ma  has  sent  for  me." 

"  Home  !     Is  not  this  your  home,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  You  know  what  I  mean,  Horace.  Ma  is  not  well,  and 
wishes  to  see  me." 

"  And  I  wish  you  to  decline  the  invitation.  Which  will 
-you  obey  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Stanhope !  " 

"  My  wife,  which  will  you  obey  ? " 

Bertha  sank  upon  the  bedside,  unable  to  sustain  her  frail 
form  under  the  sudden  shock.  This  was  the  heaviest  blow 
she  had  yet  received.  To  refuse  a  sick  mother's  request  was 
more  than  her  filial  affection  could  endure  with  composure. 
She  reflected  a  moment. 

"  Why  do  you  wish  me  to  decline?" 

"  You  should  not  desire  to  visit  those  whom  you  know  are 
your  husband's  bitterest  enemies." 

"  And  why  are  they  not  your  friends  ?  "  —  Bertha's  spirit 
was  rising. 

"  That  is  neither  here  nor  there  — they  are  not  my  friends." 

"But  they  are  my  friends,  Mr.  Stanhope,  and  my  parents. 
If  they  are  not  yours,  it  is  no  fault  of  theirs  —  you  know  that. 


185 

It  will  be  unnatural  for  me  to  refuse  a  sick  mother"  — 
she  grew  pale  at  the  thought. 

"  We  shall  never  live  in  peace,  Bertha,  until  you  are 
away  from  them.  We  have  been  happy  together  since  your 
intercourse  has  been  suspended.  If  they  would  leave  you 
alone  with  me,  you  would  have  no  cause  to  complain  of 
unkindness  in  your  husband;  for  you  know  you  are  dearer 
to  my  heart  than  the  life-blood  that  nourishes  it." 

His  arms  were  around  her  now,  and  the  old  soothing  soft- 
ness was  in  his  tone  and  heavenly-blue  eyes. 

There  was  a  strong  struggle  in  her  soul,  between  filial 
love  and  wifely  duty.  It  is  true,  they  had  lived  quietly 
since  she  left  her  home;  but  Bertha  had  been  shut  out  from 
the  world  since  she  returned  to  Horace  Stanhope,  and  his 
green  life  had  nothing  to  feed  upon. 

He  had  taken  her  to  a  little,  dark,  unwholesome  room  in 
his  business  establishment,  from  which  she  had  not  emerged 
since  she  left  her  father's  roof,  and  guarded  her  with  unre- 
mitting care  ;  trusting  to  the  honesty  of  a  negro  servant  dur- 
ing his  master's  absence  from  the  store. 

They  had  lived  peacefully,  thus ;  but  now  that  she  was 
about  to  disappear  from  his  watchful  eyes  a  little  wThile,  and 
go  out  into  the  free  air  once  more,  the  clouds  gathered 
above  her  head.  Horace  Stanhope  was  jealous  of  his  wife's 
love  for  her  parents  and  brother !  Bertha  knew  that,  for 
he  had,  long  ago,  forbidden  her  to  receive  her  father's  good- 
night kiss !  He  said  that  "  now  she  was  a  married  woman 
she  should  forget  such  a  childish  custom."  And  Bertha 
had  submitted  to  his  arbitrary  will,  for  the  sweet  sake  of 
peace  that  never  came ;  for  there  were  no  limits  to  his  jeal- 
ous requirements. 

Bertha  thought  it  all  over,  as  she  sat  there,  with  his  arms 
around  her,  her  head  upon  his  idolizing  but  torturing 
breast,  and  his  hand  smoothing  back  the  brown  curls  from 
16* 


18G         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

her  beautiful  but  sorrowful  young  face.  She  knew  he  loved 
her,  and  she  knew,  also,  that  his  love  was  the  Upas  of  her 
life !  But  she  would  yield,  so  long  as  yielding  could  insure 
peace,  without  conflicting  with  a  higher  law. 

"  Will  you  obey  me,  Bertha  ?  "  —  he  knew  she  would, 
without  the  query ;  for  Bertha's  face  mirrored  her  soul  as 
clearly  as  a  glass  the  object  before  it.  Horace  Stanhope 
had  learned  to  read  that  face  as  easily  as  a  simple  sentence 
in  English  —  he  knew  how  far  to  presume,  and  when  to 
repent;  but  in  his  rage,  when  the  serpent  bit  him  with 
unusual  severity,  he  often  overstepped  the  bounds  of  pru- 
dence, and  brought  a  heavy  rain  with  him  when  he  came 
back. 

"  It  is  very  hard,  but  I  will  not  go,  unless  —  " 

"  Unless  what,  dear  ?  " 

"  Unless  ma  should  grow  worse.  If  her  indisposition  in- 
creases, you  will  not  object  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  danger  of  that.  It 's  only  a  ruse  to  get  you 
there !  I  '11  bet  my  head  the  old  woman  is  well  enough  !  " 
and  he  went  out,  smiling  and  rejoicing  over  his  victory. 

She  could  not  help  it  —  the  thought  came  without  any 
volition  of  will  —  it  was  the  first  feeling  of  a  like  character 
that  had  troubled  her  since  their  reunion ;  —  but  Bertha 
thought,  as  she  looked  after  his  retiring  form,  he  would  have 
to  bet  something  of  more  value,  if  he  would  tempt  her  to 
take  it ! 

To  hear  her  loving  and  loved  mother,  now  sick  and  suf- 
fering from  her  absence,  thus  coolly  and  contemptuously 
spoken  of,  burned  our  spirited  heroine,  and  she  hastily  re- 
pented of  her  promise  to  the  unfeeling,  exacting  man. 

"He  merited  no  consideration  —  he  was  unworthy  of  re- 
spect," she  said,  impulsively ;  but  remembering  the  words, 
"  Wives,  be  obedient  to  your  husbands ;  even  as  Sarah 
obeyed  Abraham,  calling  him  lord,"  —  she  crushed  down 


BEAUTY.  187 

the  bitter  waters,  and  tried  to  evoke  a  better  spirit.  But 
Bertha  sat  there,  and  thought  of  her  dear  mother's  tender 
love  and  sickness,  and  her  own  unhappy  situation,  in  being 
heaven  -  bound  to  yield  obedience  to  a  jealous  tyrant, 
until  her  soul  died  within  her ;  and  she  felt  if  God 
would  take  her  out  of  the  world  she  could  go  without  a 
struggle. 

It  was  a  bitter  moment  —  full  of  conflicting  passions,  dis- 
gust, and  yearning  to  break  the  fetters  that  bound  her  in 
links  of  iron.  Then  a  face  rose  up  before  her,  and  deepened 
her  disgust  and  loathing  and  remorse  —  the  same  face  her 
mournful  eyes  had  seen  when  she  looked  beyond  the  low 
brown  house  with  the  long  piazza  back  into  the  years,  and 
stood  in  the  spring  sunshine  of  her  fourteenth  year.  It  was 
a  living  secret,  buried  deep  in  her  silent  heart.  Her  father 
had  come  between  them  then,  and  now  it  was  wrong  for  the 
wife  of  Horace  Stanhope  to  dwell  in  fancy  upon  that  face, 
with  its  mild,  spiritual  eyes  and  intellectual  brow7,  where 
truth  and  honor  were  legibly  written  by  God's  own  fingers. 
It  had  passed  away  from  the  low  brown  house  with  the  long 
piazza,  but  left  a  deathless  memory  in  her  youthful  heart 
that  none  had  ever  suspected.  She  knew  it  had  vainly  tried 
to  return,  and  then  it  was  lost  among  the  rolling  years  ;  and 
Bertha  wondered  if  the  mild  spiritual  eyes  yet  beamed,  and 
the  noble  brow  was  caressed  by  fairy  fingers,  as  it  would 
have  been  by  hers,  if  her  shrinking  soul  had  been  stronger 
in  the  dear  departed  days  ! 

It  was  the  memory  of  that  face  that  had  shielded  her 
heart  in  after-years,  and  covered  her  with  confusion  when 
Mr.  Redmond  spoke  of  love,  —  it  was  that  living  remem- 
brance of  what  might  have  been,  and  what  might  yet  be, 
that  made  her  shrink  from  Horace  Stanhope  and  plead  for 
a  release.  She  saw  that  face  distinctly,  and  felt  it  would 
haunt  her  future  years,  when  she  wrote  Edalia : 


1S8         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  I  cannot  divest  myself  of  the  indefinable  feeling,  that  the 
life  of  '  Bertha  the  Beauty  '  will  be  a  wreck !  " 

She  strove  to  put  the  memory  from  her  after  her  mar- 
riage, but  it  would  be  felt  in  hours  of  struggling  such  as  she 
now  endured ;  and  the  mild  spiritual  eyes  looked  through 
the  years  that  were  gone,  with  living  reproach  for  her  weak- 
ness in  yielding  to  a  lover's  fondness  and  a  father's  will, 
against  the  secret  convictions  of  her  own  heart  and  con- 
science. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

THE   HIDDEN    HEART.  —  EDALIA    IS    AGONIZED. 

DO  you  know,  Walter,  my  boy,  that  Wilmer  the  Lecturer 
has  purchased  and  taken  possession  of  your  grand- 
father's old  homestead  ? 

Walter  Eldon's  face  became  as  colorless  as  the  rose-bud 
that  Edalia  had  playfully  pinned  to  his  coat-collar;  he 
dropped  his  arras  upon  the  table,  and  exclaimed : 

"Is  it  possible?" 

"  Fact,  boy.  I  Ve  just  done  up  the  business  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  the  parties  concerned,  and  seen  the  new  pro- 
prietor legally  installed.  And  the  marvel  is,  Wilmer  paid 
down  thirty  thousand  dollars  in  El  Dorado  gold  for  the 
landed  estate,  accumulated,  he  informed  me,  by  three  years' 
delving  in  the  mines  of  California.  Great  place  that  for 
Indians,  reptiles,  and  Achan  wedges  —  by  Jupiter  !  " 

Walter  sat  musing,  with  his  eyes  resting  upon  his  fingers, 
that  unconsciously  beat  a  noiseless  tattoo  upon  the  table. 

"  Y-e-s,  sir." 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  189 

He  roused  up  from  his  revery,  pushed  back  his  chair,  and 
continued,  with  a  face  of  calm  decision  : 

"A  more  propitious  moment  I  could  not  avail  myself  of, 
sir,  to  apprise  you  of  a  design  I  have  in    contemplation. 

The  steamer  leaves  New  York  for  San  Francisco  at 

an  early  day,  and  it  is  my  purpose  to  procure  a  passage 
to  that  western  port." 

Mr.  Kedmond  started  back  aghast,  and  brought  his  fist 
down  upon  the  table  with  a  violence  that  astonished  the 
crockery  and  glassware. 

"  Co/i-fusion  !  Go  to  that  t'other-side-of-creation  country, 
where  the  finest  fun  is  twirling  the  tomahawk  around  your 
scalp,  and  the  wolves  snap  at  your  hair  under  the  miner's 
canvas !  Nonsense,  boy  —  nonsense  !  I  say  you  shan't  do 
it  —  by  Jupiter  !  " 

"But,  sir—" 

"No  'buts,'  sir !  Your  sainted  mother  bequeathed  you  to 
my  care  and  guidance,  and  I  have  endeavored  to  perform  a 
faithful  part  by  her  orphan  boy.  There  are  no  ties  of  con- 
sanguinity that  render  obligatory  upon  you  any  act  of  obe- 
dience to  me.  You  are  now  free  to  will  and  to  do  as  your 
inclination  prompts;  but  with  my  consent  you  will  never 
carry  into  effect  this  wTild  project.  Have  I  failed  in  my 
duty  to  the  dead  and  the  living,  boy,  that  you  wish  to  desert 
me,  now  that  the  sun  is  almost  set  and  the  night  is  closing 
round  ?  " 

Walter's  eyes  moistened.  He  started  up,  and,  leaning 
over  the  old  man's  chair,  laid  his  arms  upon  his  shoulders, 
and  said,  tremulously : 

"No,  sir  ;  you  have  ever  been  to  me  a  friend  and  a  father. 
I  can  never  repay  your  manifold  kindnesses  and  munifi- 
cence ;  but  my  deep  sense  of  the  gratitude  I  owe  you  is  only 
equalled  by  that  I  feel.     But  —  " 

"But  what,  boy?"    He  drew  Walter's  arms  over,  and 


190  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

crossed  thein  upon  his  breast.  "  Speak  out,  sir  ;  let 's  have 
an  eclaircissement." 

"  But,  as  you  say,  sir,  there  are  no  ties  of  consanguinity  to 
entitle  me  to  further  munificence;  and  now  that  you  have 
laid  the  foundation,  it  behooves  me  to  rear  the  structure  by 
my  own  individual  exertions." 

"And  ain't  you  doing  it,  sir?  Why,  how  much  work 
have  you  accomplished  since  the  old  judge  licensed  you  to 
labor  ?  P  faith,  you  '11  have  a  famous  structure  in  five 
years,  boy." 

"  Five  years !  " 

"  Eh  ?  you  deprecate  the  period  !  Five  years  at  your 
age  is  n't  an  eternity,  boy.  Why  this  impatience  to  be  rich 
speedily  ?  " 

Walter's  face  crimsoned  as  he  turned  slowly  away,  and 
replied : 

"  That,  sir,  I  must  withhold  even  from  you." 

A  vigorous  knock  at  the  door  announced  a  visitor,  and 
interrupted  the  discussion.  They  adjourned  to  the  parlor. 
Di  entered  with  the  information  that  Mr.  Simpkins  desired 
a  private  interview  with  Mr.  Eldon.  Walter  led  the  way  to 
the  office. 

"  What  the  deuce  is  on  the  docket  now  ?  "  grumbled  Mr. 
Redmond,  as  he  paced  the  room  with  rapid  strides. 

"Girl,  you're  white  as  that  curtain!  You  sympathize 
with  my  apprehensions.  That  Simpkins  is  a  bird  of  ill  omen. 
I  feel  a  presentiment  of  evil.  I  've  foreseen  it  for  months — 
that  Henley !  Yes,  yes,  there  's  mischief  before  the  court ; 
but  don't  be  scared,  Ed,  —  hang  me,  if  I  don't  blow  this 
plot  sky-high  in  a  twinkling !  " 

He  touched  the  bell,  and  dispatched  John  with  a  message 
to  Walter. 

"Boy,"  as  the  young  man  answered  the  summons,  "you 
can  now  cancel  every  debt  of  gratitude  that  you  think  due 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         191 

me,  as  your  guardian  from  infancy,  by  one  act  of  confi- 
dence.    What  is  the  purport  of  this  secret  transaction  ?  " 

"Sir,  I  have  received  a  challenge  from  Colonel  Henley." 

"  Just  as  I  —  monster !  "  breathed.  Mr.  Redmond  hoarsely 
through  his  clenched  teeth. 

An  icy  coldness  crept  over  Edalia.  She  stole  silently 
from  the  room,  and  ascended  the  stairs  as  swiftly  as  her 
nervous  temperament  would  permit.  She  entered  her  cham- 
ber and  secured  the  door. 

Alone,  a  host  of  thoughts  and  feelings  crowded  around 
her;  now  curdling  about  her  heart,  then  leaping  wildly 
along  the  blue,  throbbing  channels  of  life. 

She  knew  his  proud,  intrepid  spirit;  combined  with  the 
meekness  and  gentleness  of  a  dove,  he  possessed  firmness  and 
fearlessness  unsurpassed. 

Would  he  meet  Henley  ?  She  doubted  it  not !  Who  so 
young,  and  exquisitely  sensitive  on  all  points  touching  his 
fair  fame,  could  by  any  act  of  moral  courage  brand  it  in  a 
worldly  sense  with  the  term  "  coward  "  ?  Like  the  Apostle 
Paul,  she  "reasoned  after  the  manner  of  men." 

The  blood  rushed  hotly  to  her  brain.  She  sank  dizzily 
upon  the  floor  and  pressed  her  burning  brow  upon  the 
marble  slab  of  her  dressing-table. 

As  she  knelt,  the  past,  with  all  its  various  phases,  moved 
slowly  before  her  —  a  broad  and  varied  panorama  of  life's 
changing  scenes.  The  bright-eyed,  buoyant  boy,  ever  atten- 
tive to  her  lightest  wish  —  her  unappreciative  soul  —  the 
sober,  thoughtful  youth,  breathing  farewell  for  years,  with 
moist  eyes  and  a  half  uttered  thought  upon  his  pale  lips 
checked  and  frozen  by  her  smiling  coldness  —  the  proud, 
firm-hearted  man  folding  in  his  isolated  heart  a  silent,  secret 
sorrow !  She  traced  step  by  step  the  melting  of  her  frozen 
heart,  slowly  but  effectually,  till  wholly  liquefied  and  lost  in 
the  deep  stream  of  his  own  life  and  love ! 


192         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

And  now  fancy  pictured  the  battle-field ;  the  noble  form 
extended  upon  the  damp  ground  in  the  agonies  of  death  ! — • 
dying,  unconscious  that  two  lives  are  ebbing  away  beneath 
the  murderer's  exulting  eye! 

Edalia  sprang  up  and  wandered  around  the  room  in  un- 
utterable anguish.  She  caught  her  reflection  in  the  broad 
mirror,  as  she  paced  the  chamber,  and  stopped  in  mute 
wonder  and  fascination. 

The  face  was  marble-white  and  rigid,  and  the  blue  veins 
lay  in  threads  upon  the  temples,  pulsing  wildly  and  hotly. 
Mortal  pallor  surrounded  the  slightly  parted  lips  ;  dark, 
heavy  circles  encompassed  the  flashing  black  eyes  ;  and  the 
long  loose  curls  hung  in  midnight  masses  over  the  snowy 
robe  and  livid  face,  like  a  cloud  of  woe. 

Tears  would  have  been  a  relief — a  luxury;  —  but  the 
fierce  flame  that  surged  through  her  heart  and  brain  dried 
up  the  liquid  fountain-waters ;  and  pressing  her  hand  upon 
the  scorched  and  thirsty  lids,  she  leaned  over  the  golden  let- 
ters glittering  upon  the  white  shell,  and  another  memory 
swept  over  her. 

She  had  observed  in  Walter's  chamber  an  elegant  volume, 
well  worn ;  and  on  the  fly-leaf  was  traced  in  delicate  chi- 
rography : 

"Eva  Eldon. 
A  Mother's  dying  Gift  to  her  darling  boy." 

B  neath  was  written,  in  bold  characters : 

"  Word  of  the  everliving  God, 
Will  of  His  glorious  Son, 
Without  thee,  how  could  earth  be  trod, 
Or  Heaven  itself  be  won." 

And  the  simple  word  "Mother"  betrayed  the  author. 
And  as  Edalia  leaned,  now  in  tearless  agony,  a  pencilled 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  193 

passage  therein  arose  to  her  mental  vision,  and  found  a  deep 
response  in  her  wretched  heart: 

"  Whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go;  where  thou  diest,  I  will 
die,  and  there  will  I  be  buried.  The  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and 
mure  also,  if  aught  but  death  part  thee  and  me." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


THE  "FACE   REPROACHES  BERTHA.  —  GREEN -EYES 
DEFEATED.  —  CLAUDE  BELMONT. 

THE  face  looked  up  through  the  years  sadly  reproachful 
at  Bertha,  as  she  sat  there  on  the  bedside  and  thought 
how  weak  she  had  been  in  yielding  to  others  in  a  matter 
that  would  affect  her  whole  future  life,  for  happiness  or 
misery.  She  had  grown  firmer  in  heart  since  that  fatal 
day  —  she  had  learned  to  suffer  and  be  strong. 

Bertha  yearned  to  recall  the  words  that  bound  her  to 
Horace  Stanhope  for  all  time,  or  till  death ;  yearned  with 
a  soul-longing  that  grew  to  keenest  pain,  as  she  realized  her 
position  to  the  fullest  extent.  How  firm,  how  brave  she 
could  be  now  in  refusing  her  father's  chosen  —  now  that  it 
was  eighteen  months  too  late  ! 

She  had  thrown  away  her  life;  for  what  would  the  future 
be  without  love?  She  had  thought  to  love  him,  through 
his  own  great  love ;  but  how  could  she  love  one  whom  she 
could  not  respect? 

She  had  trusted  to  her  father,  blinded  by  prejudice  and 
deceived  by  show,  and  he  had  led  her  into  lifelong  woe.  She 
should  have  been  braver  and  stood  firm,  in  the  conviction 
that  marriage  with  Horace  Stanhope  would  be  a  mockery 
in  God's  sight;  —  stood  firm  in  refusing  to  syllable  with  her 
17  N 


194         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

]ips  a  vow  that  her  whole  heart  could  not  utter.  How  will- 
ingly would  she  now  risk  his  displeasure,  and  even  be  cast 
out  from  his  home  for  disobedience,  could  she  but  be  relieved 
of  the  great  sin-burden  and  soul-pain  of  being  an  unloving, 
disgusted,  hopeless  wife ! 

Sitting  there  lamenting  the  great  weakness  that  had 
wrecked  her  life ;  mourning  for  the  suffering  mother,  whom 
she  was  forbidden  to  see  by  a  tyrant  to  whose  power  fate 
had  fastened  her  forever,  the  deep  cry  of  her  struggling 
spirit  was :    "  When  —  oh,  when  will  it  end ! " 

Seriously,  was  it  her  duty  to  submit  to  such  tyranny,  and 
by  yielding  to  injustice  and  heartless  cruelty  render  wretched 
one  whose  love  for  her  was  deathless  and  pure? — she  asked 
herself.  Then  the  solemn  words  of  the  marriage  ritual, 
"  And  forsaking  all  others,  keep  thee  only  unto  him,  so  long 
as  you  both  shall  live,"  came  over  her  troubled  conscience. 
She  had  sealed  her  own  doom  in  assenting  to  those  words, 
and  there  was  no  escape  now.  The  path  of  duty  was  plainly 
marked  out  before  her,  and  though  thorny  and  sunless,  she 
must  walk  the  cheerless  way. 

"  I  will  try  !  —  I  will  try  ! —  and  God  help  me !  "  was  the 
great  cry  of  that  bruised  and  blighted  youthful  heart. 

And  she  did. 

Bertha  took  up  the  monotonous  thread  of  her  daily  life, 
and  the  weary  hours  went  on. 

Horace  Stanhope  watched  her  truthful  face,  and  chided 
her  for  every  shade  that  settled  in  her  brown  eyes.  Could 
she  have  been  free  from  his  scrutiny  and  constant  reproaches 
for  the  effect  produced  by  his  own  tyranny,  life  would  have 
been  less  wearisome. 

"  Stanhope  won't  suffer  his  wife  to  visit  her  mother,  and 
the  consequences  are  unfavorable  to  her  present  state  of 
health,"  said  Dr.  Burnell,  as  he  walked  the  hotel  piazza, 
with  sober  eyes. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  195 

"  Stanhope  is  the  greatest  Yankee  rascal  that  ever  mar- 
ried a  Southern  wife,"  replied  Major  Watson,  the  proprietor 
of  the  hotel.  "  The  Lord  knows,  he  only  merits  a  piece  of 
hemp,  well  twisted,  for  a  cravat !  —  that  fact  is  pretty  well 
known  hereabouts.  Anything  worse  in  Mrs.  Belmont's  case, 
doctor?" 

"  Yes ;  I  called  in  Dr.  Whiteley  this  morning,  and  we  con- 
sulted together.  I  won't  take  the  responsibility  of  acting 
alone — the  symptoms  are  bad  ;  and  unless  her  daughter  is 
permitted  to  visit  her,  I  won't  answer  for  the  result ;  mind 
and  body  are  both  disordered.  I  have  advised  Mrs.  Stan- 
hope, through  her  brother,  of  her  mother's  situation,  and  I 
hardly  think  she  can  be  restrained  by  her  villanous  lord. 
But  she  's  nothing  but  ware,  in  stronger  hands,  or  she  would 
not  now  be  in  that  tyrant's  power.  If  she  were  my  sister, 
I  'd  break  his  head  before  he  does  her  heart,  by  George! " 

"  Belmont  threatens  to  shoot  him,  if  he  ever  puts  foot  on 
his  premises  again ;  and  the  rascal  could  n't  do  his  wife  and 
the  world  a  greater  favor  and  service  than  by  tempting  the 
old  man  to  perform  his  vow !  I  'm  blest,  if  he  ain't  too 
mean  to  live,  and  the  whole  community  knows  it.  From 
his  appearance  he  might  have  been  cut  out  for  a  gentleman, 
but  he  was  mortally  ugly  made  up !  Why,  sir,  he  has  no 
more  soul  or  shame  than  this  pipe  I  'm  smoking  —  fact !  " 

"We  all  know  him  pretty  thoroughly  by  this  time,  I 
'guess.'  (Dr.  Burnell  was  a  native  of  New  Jersey,  and  a 
little  touched  with  Yankeeism  in  his  language,  but  not  in 
mechanism.)  And  how  well  she  might  have  married,  with 
her  beauty  and  accomplishments !  She  was  the  sweetest- 
looking  sick  woman  I  ever  had  the  privilege  of  attending, 
and  I  thought  him  the  most  devoted  husband  the  world 
ever  saw,  for  the  fellow  never  left  the  bedside  when  I  was 
about.  I  comprehend  now  some  little  circumstances  that 
transpired  during  my  attendance,  that  were  passed  by  at  the 


196  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

time  —  the  rascal  was  jealous  of  his   wife's  physician!    I 

see  it  all  now." 

"I  should  like  to  know  of  whom  the  fool  is  n't  jealous  — 
that 's  all !  It  matters  not  if  he's  old  or  young,  married  or 
single  — it's  all  one  to  the  scoundrel,  if  he  looks  admiringly 
at  Bertha.  There 's  Harry  Herbert  —  as  honest  a  youth  as 
ever  said  a  prayer  —  says  Bertha  has  n't  spoken  to  him  in 
twelve  months,  and  —  " 

"  Herbert  like  to  have  gone  mad  after  her  marriage,  and 
I  suppose  Green-Eyes  has  learned  the  fact." 

"  Herbert  seems  to  understand  it  now,  but  it  hurt  him  at 
first.  I  only  wish  the  man  she 's  got  was  half  as  honorable 
as  the  one  she  did  n't  have  —  that 's  all !  If  a  girl  is  to 
shun  all  her  old  beaux  after  her  marriage,  and  hate  every- 
body but  her  husband,  I  say  she  'd  better  take  the  veil  in 
some  convent,  and  die  an  old  maid !  " 

"  Hum ! "  said  the  doctor,  as  he  turned  on  his  heel  and 
strode  indignantly  away. 

Bertha  had  hoped  to  secure  peace  by  yielding  to  her  hus- 
band's requirements ;  but  she  found  it  was  not  to  be  obtained 
on  such  terms.  Harry  Herbert  was  an  especial  object  of  his 
jealousy,  notwithstanding  she  had  faithfully  performed  her 
promise  with  reference  to  him.  Horace  Stanhope  was  con- 
tinually maligning  his  character,  and  commenting  upon  his 
daily  deportment ;  for  what  purpose,  she  at  length  divined ; 
his  base  soul  could  not  be  satisfied  of  her  indifference,  with- 
out proof  in  harsh  words  of  one  whom  she  could  not  but 
respect.  Bertha's  sense  of  honor  and  justice  could  not  con- 
descend to  gratify  him  there,  and  sly  insinuations  respecting 
secret  affection  for  him  at  length  grew  to  open  accusations. 
Bertha's  curling  lip  beat  him  back  from  further  encroach- 
ments. Profane  words  closed  the  scene,  and  Stanhope's 
heels  rang  along  the  floor,  as  he  made  a  hasty  exit  to  cool 
down  his  rising  temper. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         197 

Bertha  found  that  peace  with  Horace  Stanhope  was  not 
to  be  obtained  on  any  terms.  She  had  passed  coolly  a  kind 
and  Christian  friend,  to  disarm  his  jealousy ;  she  had  left 
her  home,  to  gratify  him ;  she  had  refused  a  sick  mother's 
request  to  test  the  effect  of  entire  separation  from  her  family, 
to  whom  he  attributed  the  cause  of  their  unhappiness  in  the 
past ;  and  yet  their  present  life  had  become  as  restless  and 
inharmonious  as  the  past  had  been.  She  resolved  to  do  her 
duty  to  all  in  the  future,  pursue  a  straightforward  course 
as  conscience  might  direct,  and  leave  the  consequences  to 
Him,  who,  "  for  human  weal,  husbands  all  events." 

"  Ma  is  very  ill,  sis.     Dr.  Burnell  says  he  won't  answer 
for  the  consequences,  if  you  don't  come  home  immediately." 
Claude  Belmont  was  standing  at  Bertha's  window,  with 
deep  concern  upon  his  young  face. 

Bertha  started  to  her  feet,  spasmodically. 
"  Is  ma  worse  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  don't  believe  the  doctor  has  much  hope  of 
her  ever  being  better,"  —  his  lips  shut  tightly. 

"Oh,"    Bertha  wrung   her   small,  child-like  hands,   "I 
thought  she  was  improving  —  Horace  told  me  so !  " 

"Horace  is  a  lying  knave! "  thundered  Claude,  whitening 
with  wrath  at  the  sound  of  the  najne. 

"  Sh  !  sh  !  "  said  Bertha,  glancing  furtively  at  the  door. 
"I  don't  care  a  snap  !  "  cried  Claude,  crossing  his  thumb 
and  finger  with  a  rousing  report.  "  Satan 's  a  saint,  to  him, 
and  hell  ain't  hot  enough  to  scorch  the  infernal  scoundrel ! 
If  ma  dies,  I  '11  spill  his  base  blood  as  certain  as  there  's  a 
bullet  in  the  barrel  —  I will! "  emphasized  the  fiery  youth. 
"  There,  there !  don't  get  into  a  passion ;  it  won't  mend 
matters  a  bit.  Tell  ma  I'll  come,  'though  the  heavens 
fall'!" 

And  Claude  Belmont  knew  she  would,  as  he  observed 
her  face. 
17* 


198  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  Horace  ?  " 

"Well,  dear?" 

"  Ma  is  growing  rapidly  worse,  and  Dr.  Burnell  has  sent 
to  advise  me  to  go  down  immediately !  " 

"  Who  came  ?  " 

"  Bud." 

"I  thought  so  —  ha,  ha!  Only  a  feint,  Bertha.  I've 
heard  she 's  improving  —  has  n't  been  very  sick  at  all." 

"Who  told  you?" 

"  Well  —  ah  —  several  who  came  into  the  store.  I  in- 
quired for  your  sake." 

"  They  spoke  without  authority  then.  It  is  n't  likely  they 
should  be  as  well  informed  on  the  subject  as  Dr.  Burnell." 

"  Well,  to  satisfy  you,  I  '11  inquire  of  the  doctor." 

"  I  'm  satisfied  already  on  that  point.  I  called  you  to  say, 
I  wish  to  go  down.  I  cannot  longer  remain  away,  and  you 
surely  will  not  object?  " 

"  But  I  do  object  —  what  then  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  to  have  your  consent ;  but  if  not,  I  must 
go  without  it." 

"You  will?" 

"  It  is  my  duty,  as  a  child ;  and  I  should  be  less  than 
human  to  refuse  now.     I^m  going." 

"You  are?" 

"I  am.     Do  you  consent,  Horace?  " 

"  No,  by !     And  when  you  get  there  —  stay  I " 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Stanhope  — I  will." 

Horace  Stanhope  grew  white  as  death,  as  she  turned 
away.  He  felt  he  had  tolled  the  bell  for  his  own  funeral, 
but  he  was  too  hard  and  hot  to  apologize  then ;  and  he 
trusted  to  his  arts  and  wiles  to  win  her  back. 

He  watched  her  as  she  went  down  the  thoroughfare,  and 
saw  her  recognize  Harry  Herbert  with  a  bow.  Harry  lifted 
his  hat  gracefully,  and  held  it  respectfully  above  his  head, 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  199 

as  he  looked  after  her,  too,  with  a  mingling  of  sadness  and 
pity  in  his  soft  blue  eyes. 

Horace  Stanhope  writhed  with  animosity,  and  ground  his 
teeth  with  jealous  rage. 

Harry  Herbert  looked  up  at  him,  and  saw  the  demon 
working  in  his  face.  Stanhope  saw  him  smile  as  he  turned 
away,  and  thought: 

"  The  scoundrel  is  exulting  in  his  triumph  ! " 

He  subsequently  repeated  it  to  Bertha.  She  said,  in 
reply  to  his  accusation  of  falsehood  : 

"  I  promised  you,  Horace,  on  condition  that  it  would  dis- 
arm your  jealousy  ;  but  it  has  not.  I  have  determined  to 
do  my  duty,  and  satisfy  my  conscience  in  the  future,  let  the 
consequences  be  what  they  may.  I  have  done  violence  to 
it  many  times  for  your  sake,  and  it  wins  no  reward  from 
you  of  peace  and  confidence'^ 

"  Oh,  if  that 's  your  game,  your  first  duty  is  to  obey  me." 

"So  far  as  your  requirements  are  just  and  right  —  and  I 
have  done  it ;  and  more.  But  I  will  not  do  violence  to  my 
conscience  again,  even  for  the  sake  of  momentary  quiet." 

Bertha  found  her  mother  very  low,  notwithstanding  Stan- 
hope's daily  information  that  she  was  "better,"  "improv- 
ing," "  getting  well,"  and  so  on.  She  reproached  herself  for 
her  credulity,  and  having  remained  so  long  away,  when  she 
looked  upon  that  poor,  thin  face.  But  the  mother  knew  the 
child  was  guiltless  of  wrong,  and  uttered  no  word  of  com- 
plaint. 

Mrs.  Belmont  grew  calm  and  cheerful,  with  her  daughter 
by  her  bed-side,  until  the  shades  of  evening  came  on ;  then 
a  restlessness  was  visible  in  her  dark  eyes.  Bertha  had  not 
informed  her  home -circle  of  Horace  Stanhope's  parting 
words,  knowing  he  would  repent  and  come  for  her,  and  the 
past  be  exposed.  She  would  conceal  his  meanness,  so  long 
as  concealment  were  possible. 


200 

Mrs.  Belmont  watched  her  daughter  as  night  came  down. 

"  He  won't  let  you  come  again,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  He  must  promise  to  offer  no  opposition  in  future,  or  I 
will  not  return  to  him,  ma." 

The  mother  laughed  softly,  with  tears  standing  in  her 
sunken  eyes. 

"  Hurra  for  you  !  "  shouted  Claude,  skipping  up  from  his 
chair,  and  turning  on  his  heel  like  a  top,  "  that 's  the  way 
to  put  your  foot  down  !  Screw  him  hard,  and  he  '11  cave  like 
a  clay-bank  in  a  long  spell  o'  weather!  You  did  n't  begin 
right  in  the  first  place,  sir ;  you  ought  to  have  shown  fight 
before  your  white  shoes  were  off — such  fellows  need  it  to 
keep  'em  straight !  Stanhope  's  as  arrant  a  coward  as  ever 
wore  calf,  and,  like  all  of  his  kind,  he  will  impose  upon  the 
weak  and  helpless ;  while  the  strong  and  brave  can  push 
him  to  the  wall  without  much  of  an  effort.  I  don't  approve 
of  petticoat  government,  as  a  general  thing,  but  I  '11  be  shot 
with  a  shovel  if  it  ain't  necessary  with  fellows  like  Stan- 
hope !  The  more  you  kick  a  dog  the  better  he  '11  like  you  ; 
and  the  harder  you  flatten  some  people's  nose,  the  easier 
you  '11  get  on  with  'em  —  dog  me  !  " 

"  Try  to  do  your  duty  as  a  wife,  and  don't  neglect  your 
duty  as  a  child,  my  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Belmont;  "never 
run  to  extremes  from  a  false  sense  of  right,  but  take  the 
intermediate  path,  and  walk  it  firmly.  Let  reason  dictate, 
and  conscience  obey." 

"  I  'm  going  to  do  that  in  future,  pa."  He  thought  she 
was,  when  he  looked  at  her. 

Mr.  Belmont  smiled  strangely.  He  said  to  his  wife,  when 
Bertha  wras  gone: 

"That  child  has  grown  wonderfully  strong  and  self- 
conscious,  of  late.  That  small  mouth  shuts  like  a  vice, 
when  she  means  a  thing ;  and  her  face  looks  like  flint  some- 
times.    I  'm  glad  of  it,"  he  added,  as  he  knocked  the  ashes 


201 

from  his  pipe,  and  blew  through  the  stem  to  clear  the  tube 
before  laying  it  by.  "  Stanhope  won't  be  able  to  impose 
upon  her  so  easily  now.  I  'guess'  she'll  stick  up  for  her 
rights.  If  she  'd  been  as  independent  two  years  ago,  she 
wouldn't  be  a  villain's  wife  now  !  " 

This   was   the   first    hint   that   Mr.    Belmont   had    ever 
breathed,  respecting  his  influence  in  Bertha's  unfortunate 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


MR.  REDMOND  "DIVES  TO  THE  BOTTOM."  —  THE  SECRET 
STORY   REVEALED. 

EDALIA!" 
Walter's  voice  was  quick  and  solicitous.     She  lifted 
her  head  from  her  hands  and  answered  the  call.     He  started 
back  with  a  cry  of  terror,  as  she  threw  open  the  chamber- 
door. 

"Great  God!— Edalia!" 

He  caught  her  nervously  in  his  arms,  gathered  her  closely 
up  to  his  frightened  breast,  and  dropped  his  white  face  upon 
her  deathlike  brow. 

"  Darling,  there  is  no  cause  for  distress ;  I  have  declined  —  " 

Edalia  heard  no  more.  Her  senses  receded,  and  she  lay 
insensible  upon  his  breast. 

A  confused  noise  of  frightened  sobs  and  flying  servants 
greeted  her  as  she  awoke  to  consciousness.  She  was  in  the 
parlor,  supported  by  Mr.  Redmond  and  Walter,  mutually. 

"  Lor'  bless  de  chile ! "  said  Aunt  Cora,  as  she  rubbed  the 
cold  white  hands  and  held  a  burnt  feather  to  her  nose. 
"She  never  had  a  fit  'fore  'n  'er  life,  po'  thing!  Aunt 
( Jory  knows  she  did  n't !  " 


202         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Mr.  Redmond  started  up,  relieved,  as  Edalia  opened  her 
eyes. 

"Why,  Ed,  Lord  bless  my  soul  and  body,  if  you  haven't 
scared  me  out  'n  a  year's  growth  !  I  feel  two  inches  shorter, 
by  Jupiter ! " 

He  straightened  himself  up  to  a  height  that  showed  his 
feelings  decidedly  at  fault  with  his  appearance. 

Edalia  felt  the  wild  throbbings  of  the  heart  to  which  she 
was  closely  held,  and  lifted  her  eyes  to  his.  They  were  bent 
upon  her  face,  and  suffused  with  tears. 

"And  you  will  not  meet?" 

"No,  Edie;  human  life  is  of  more  value  than  to  be 
lightly  perilled,  and  that,  too,  by  a'  false  sense  of  honor.  I 
fear  not  man,  but  regard  Him  who  has  said,  'Thou  shalt  not 
kill,'  and  'Ye  are  not  your  own,  ye  are  bought  with  a  price;' 
and  He  alone  must  be  the  arbiter  of  my  existence." 

"  Good,  boy  !  That 's  logic  that  can't  be  gainsaid.  The 
veriest  dastard  will  fight  to  the  death,  through  physical  insen- 
sibility, to  prove  himself  what  he  is  n't ;  but  it  requires  a 
vast  amount  of  courage  to  turn  from  the  gage  thrown  down 
by  a  burly  antagonist,  from  principles  of  morality." 

"  Colonel  Henley,  sir,  was  perfectly  well  aware  of  my  sen- 
timents with  regard  to  duelling,  and,  consequently,  I  felt  the 
less  hesitation,  even  in  a  social  sense,  in  declining  his  chal- 
lenge." 

"  Precisely ;  and  he  the  less  reluctance  in  sending  it,  be- 
yond question.  He  burnishes  his  bravery  without  the  help 
of  a  bullet  through  his  gown.  But  tell  us,  boy,  the  provo- 
cation that  conduced  to  such  a  result." 

Walter  colored  and  hesitated,  but  at  length  replied : 

"  Colonel  Henley,  sir,  imputed  to  me,  publicly,  designs  of 
a  mercenary  nature  upon  the  hand  of  a  young  lady,  to  which 
I  retorted  with  unjustifiable  warmth,  unless  the  high  esteem 
in  which  I  hold   her,  apart  from  all  considerations  of  a 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  203 

pecuniary  character,  can  be  considered  a  sufficient  exten- 
uation." 

"  By  Jupiter,  a  woman 's  at  the  bottom  of  all  mischief!  " 
ejaculated  Mr.  Redmond,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  pleasure. 
"  And  so  Henley  's  jealous,  eh  ?" 

"It  is  a  groundless  jealousy,  then,  sir,  for  I  have  never 
presumed  upon  her  hand." 
"  But  you  love  her,  boy  ?  " 
Walter  was  silent. 
"I  say?" 

"  Differently  circumstanced,  I  would  answer  you,  sir." 
"  Differently  circumstanced  !  "     The  old  gentleman's  eyes 
Hashed.     "  Does  the  girl  reciprocate  your  feelings  ?  " 
"  I  have  never  questioned  her  on  that  point,  sir." 
"  Boy,  a  lover's  eye  is  not  easily  deceived.     Does  the  girl 
love  you?" 

"  Judging  from  appearances  —  yes,  sir." 
"  Then  you  fear  opposition  from  her  parents  ?  " 
"  No  —  yes  —  sir,  let  us  waive  the  subject." 
"  Shan't  do  it.     I  'm  bound  to  dive  to  the  bottom  of  this 
business,  by  Jove !  "     He  walked  the  room  in  a  heat  of  ex- 
citement.    "  If  your  love  is  mutual,  why  do  you  scruple  to 
propose,  sir  ?  " 

"  Because,  sir,  I  shall  never  lay  myself  liable  to  the  charge 
of  cupidity  by  aspiring  to  the  hand  of  one  so  far  my  supe- 
rior in  wealth.  You  know  now,  sir,  why  I  '  desire  to  be  rich 
speedily';  and  with  this  knowledge  you  will  offer  no  further 
opposition  to  my  design." 

u  I  say  I  shall,  though  ;  hang  your  pride ! " 
"  It  is  not  so  much  pride  as  the  peculiar  circumstances  by 
which  I  am  surrounded." 

"  Peculiar   circumstances  ! "     The  old  gentleman's   eyes 
snapped.     "  What 's  the  girl  worth  ?  " 
"  A  thousand  worlds." 


204 

"  All  gammon !  In  dollars  and  cents,  I  mean,  Deuce 
take  your  rhapsodies!"  He  perambulated  and  mused. 
"  Boy,  you  are  the  possessor  of  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Will 
that  equalize  you,  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view  ? " 

"Sir!" 

"  I  say  you  are  the  possessor  of  fifty  thousand  dollars." 

"  How,  sir?     I  thought  — " 

"  Am  I  addicted  to  speaking  unadvisedly  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then,  boy,  go  and  enjoy  all  that  I  have  ever  hoped  for 
your  mother's  son."     His  voice  faltered. 

Walter  turned  his  bright  eyes  upon  Edalia  with  a  joyous 
smile.  His  face  glowed  with  happiness.  He  walked  firmly 
up  and  extended  his  hand. 

"  Edie,  I  have  loved  you  from  boyhood — you  know  how 
fervently.     Will  you  be  my  Edie  —  my  wijef" 

"I  wiU,  Walter." 

He  folded  her  closely  in  his  arms  with  a  trembling  clasp, 
and  laid  his  flushed  face  upon  her  half-hidden  forehead. 

Mr.  Redmond  took  them  both  in  his  arms,  with  tears 
trickling  down  his  cheeks. 

"  God  bless  you,  children !  You  have  now  realized  the 
cherished  hopes  of  years.  Boy,  this  is  the  happiest  moment 
I  have  known  since  I  held  your  angel  mother  as  you  do  my 
niece ! " 

"  My  mother,  sir  ?  " 

"Your  mother,  boy.  Behold  her,  and  gratify  an  oft  ex- 
pressed desire." 

He  drew  from  his  bosom  a  small,  golden  locket,  and 
touching  a  spring,  revealed  the  delicate  form  of  a  fair 
young  girl,  in  the  first  flush  of  womanhood,  bearing  a 
striking  resemblance  to  him  whose  arm  encircled  Edalia. 

A  robe  of  azure-blue  draped  the  slender  form ;  the  plump 
white  arms    were  bare,  and   a   veil   of  silky  ringlets  fell 


205 

lightly  over  the  round,  fair  face  and  graceful  shoulders  like 
a  soft  cloud  of  golden  -  hued  mist.  The  large  blue  eyes 
smiled  upon  the  beholder  from  under  the  dark,  curved 
fringe,  and  a  faint  expression  of  innocent  mirth  sat  upon  the 
small,  rosy  mouth. 

Walter  gazed  reverently  upon  the  lovely  semblance,  and 
gently  murmured  : 

"Mother:' 

It  was  the  language  of  the  heart. 

The  old  man  paced  the  floor  with  an  abstracted  air. 

"Children,  the  world  laughs  at  the  lone  old  bachelor, 
and  deems  him  devoid  of  feeling  — destitute  of  the  softer 
sensibilities  that  are  apparent  in  others  of  his  sex ;  but  far 
down  in  the  still  cloister  of  the  old  man's  soul  lies  a  folded 
leaf,  lettered  over  with  Love's  Young  Dream,  defying  the 
mildew  of  time,  and  living  fresh  and  warm  through  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  rolling  years.  Let  the  world  say  what  it 
will,  '  the  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness,"'  and 

1  The  wealth  of  the  ocean  lies  fathoms  below 
The  surface  that  sparkles  above ! '  " 

He  placed  the  miniature  in  his  bosom  with  a  tremulous 
hand,  and  with  a  fervent  benediction  left  the  newly  be- 
trothed  alone. 

"  You  may  read  the  letter  now,  Ed,"  said  Mr.  Redmond, 
as  she  kissed  him  good-night  and  went  up  to  her  chamber! 

Di  was  soon  wandering  in  dreamland.  She  opened  the 
little  case,  and  drew  forth  the  hidden  treasure.  Breaking 
the  seal,  a  delicate  missive  dropped  from  the  envelope 
superscribed  by  her  uncle.     Edalia  read  : 

"Maplb#Hall,  June  20,  18— . 
"I  am  dying,  Edward,  — slowly,   but  surely;  dying  in 
the  morning  of  life,  alone  and  broken-hearted.    I  go  gladly, 


206         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

fearlessly  ;  for  all  that  rendered  life  lovely  is  lost  to  me 
forever,  and  I  long  to  flee  away  and  be  at  rest! 

"  But  I  cannot  go  down  to  the  dim  valley,  conscious  that 
he,  whom  I  have  so  loved,  deems  me  false  and  unworthy  of 
the  love  he  gave!  No,  Edward,  though  I  lie  in  the  dusk  of 
the  grave,  asleep  from  the  anguish  of  earth,  when  you  learn 
the  weight  of  woe  that  is  wasting  my  life  away,  I  cannot  die 
and  let  this  fatal  secret  lie  buried  with  me ! 

"  Should  you  ever  return  from  your  lone  wanderings  over 
the  wide  waters  —  exiled  by  my  seeming  inconstancy  —  go 
to  the  silent  spot  where  the  hand  that  indites  and  the  heart 
that  dictates  lie  cold  and  throbless ;  and  know,  if  immu- 
table love,  that  yielded  only  to  the  icy  hand  of  death,  to  rise 
exultant  and  eternal  in  the  spirit-land,  could  render  her 
deserving,  the  pale  sleeper  beneath  is  worthy  of  the  tears 
you  shed. 

"  Ah,  that  dim,  hushed  eve,  when  we  stood  beneath  the 
old  maple  and  watched  the  mellow  moonlight  starring  the 
still  waters,  dreaming  that  life  to  us  could  not  be  less  bright 
and  sparkling  than  its  silvery  surface!  You  remember, 
Edward,  that  happy  hour?  It  was  the  last  that  I  have 
ever  known! 

"  I  parted  with  you  that  eve,  with  the  sweet  story  of  your 
whispered  love  lying,  like  a  blessing,  in  the  sunny  fane  of 
my  youthful  heart.  That  eve  !  —  it  was  the  last  flicker  of 
Hope's  taper  —  the  last  note  of  the  dying  swan,  the  bright- 
est, the  sweetest  —  the  last ! 

"  I  was  told  that  I  must  resign  you,  or  be  considered  the 
murderer  of  my  father  !  He  produced  the  instrument  of 
death,  and  presented  it  to  his  heart !  I  yielded,  and  became 
the  wife  of  Mr.  Eldon.  Though  conscious  of  my  absorbing 
love  for  another,  he  made  me  a  perjurer  at  the  holy  altar! 
I  have  endeavored  to  perform  the  duties  of  a  wife ;  but  my 
soul  was  wedded  to  you,  Edward,  that  blue,  starry  night; 
and  the  vow  I  uttered  was  recorded  by  angel  hands  upon  the 
scroll  of  immortality. 

"  My  father  sleeps  now  beneath  the  old  willow,  where 
they  laid  my  loved  mother  long  years  ago ;  and  my  hus- 
band is  —  I  cannot  write  it ! 

"  My  sweet  babe  —  my  little  Walter  Edward  — will  soon 
be  motherless.     Should  he  ever  be  fatherless,  oh,  Edward, 


207 

by  the  memory  of  our  young  and  happy  years,  guard  his 
infancy,  guide  his  youth,  and  counsel  his  manhood. 

"To  your  sister,  my  dear  Edalia,  I  intrust  this  plea  for 
my  lovely  babe.  I  could  die  tranquil,  could  I  place  him 
in  your  arms,  and  know  you  will  cherish  my  little,  lone 
bud  —  for  his  father  is  cold  and  indifferent ! 

"  And  now,  Edward,  dear  Edward,  farewell.  I  have 
loved  thee  on  Earth;  meet  me  in  Heaven. 

"In  spirit,  your  Eva." 

And  this  was  the  history  of  the  young  sleeper  in  the 
silent  church-yard  —  the  secret  story  of  the  old  man's  un- 
wedded  life. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 


HORACE   STANHOPE   RISKS    HIS   LIBERTY   TO   TEST    HIS 
POWER.  —  ENVY   REJOICES   AT   CALAMITY. 

BERTHA !  " 
She  turned  at  the  sound.     Horace  Stanhope  stood  at 
the  gate,  looking  up  at  the  window,  with  one  of  his  sunniest 
smiles. 

"Come,  dear;  it  is  growing  late." 

Bertha  left  the  window,  with  a  queer  compression  of  the 
small  mouth,  and  went  down  to  the  "  repentant  sinner."  A 
shade  of  concern  displaced  the  sunny  smile,  as  she  ap- 
proached him,  without  preparation  for  gratifying  his  wish. 

"  You  commanded  me  to  '  stay '  when  I  came  home." 
The  face  was  very  sober,  but  something  in  the  eyes  cheered 
him. 

"  Pooh !  You  know  I  did  n't  mean  it.  I  can't  live  with- 
out you,  you  witch !    Run  for  your  bonnet  —  quick ! " 


208  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"We  must  have  an  understanding  before  I  go,  Horace. 
Will  you  object  to  my  coming  again?" 

Stanhope  looked  puzzled  and  vexed.  He  knew  he  was  at 
her  mercy,  and  dared  not  refuse  then.  In  the  height  of 
passion  he  had  informed  her  the  law  would  sustain  him  in 
prohibiting  her  return  home ;  but  Horace  Stanhope  was 
well  aware  of  the  fact  that  such  a  proceeding  would  very 
speedily  subject  him  to  "lynch  law"  in  that  community. 
He  had  received  hints  to  that  effect  in  the  past.  Bertha's 
pity  was  his  protection. 

"I  will  not  object,  when  it  is  advisable,"  he  said,  stingily. 

"  That  won't  do,  Mr.  Stanhope.  I  must  have  the  privi- 
lege, without  reproof,  of  coming  home  at  any  time.  I  have 
a  child's  and  a  sister's  heart,  and  I  will  not  cousent  to  tor- 
ture it,  and  punish  those  who  love  me  simply  for  your  re- 
venge, in  the  future.  It  were  far  better  to  live  apart,  in 
peace,  than  together,  in  confusion  and  misery.  Now  that  I 
am  at  home,  I  will  '  stay,'  unless  you  promise  to  offer  no 
further  opposition." 

She  looked  very  beautiful  and  sweetly  innocent,  with  her 
earnest  face  and  rich  brown,  soul-full  eyes,  reproving  his 
tyrannical  spirit,  as  her  little  golden-brown  head  bent  to- 
ward him  over  the  low  gate. 

Horace  Stanhope's  impulsiveness  got  the  better  of  his 
spite  for  a  moment.  He  stooped  quickly  and  kissed  the 
small,  red  mouth. 

"There,  I  promise,  you  torment!  Now  run  for  your 
bonnet." 

It  was  such  little  flashes  of  golden  light,  revealing  a  better 
nature,  that  kept  the  night  of  hopelessness  from  closing 
around  our  heroine.  While  there  was  a  spot  of  blue  and  a 
sunbeam  in  her  horizon,  she  could  not  wholly  freeze  toward 
him.  Horace  Stanhope  knew  his  power,  and  the  material  it 
was  exerted  upon. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  209 

"  I  '11  come  to-morrow,  ma,"  she  said,  as  she  turned  from 
the  bedside  of  Mrs.  Belmont. 

"She  '11  do  it,  sure  's  you're  born,"  laughed  the  old  man, 
as  Bertha's  footsteps  died  upon  the  stairs.  "  She  looks  hard 
as  the  rock  of  Gibraltar,  by  George ! " 

"  She  's  had  enough  to  harden  her,  poor  child  !  "  returned 
the  mother,  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  'd  like  to  hear  the  rascal  fume  when  he  gets  her  caged 
again  ! "  growled  Claude,  clenching  his  hand ;  "  and  I  'd 
like  a  dog  sight  better  to  bring  my  fist  chuck  against  his 
green  eyes  —  so !  "  and  the  mantel  rang  beneath  the  blow 
aimed  at  it  by  the  indignant  brother. 

"  Hello,  bub  !  "  sniggered  Mr.  Belmont ;  "  don't  spoil  the 
paint  and  varnish,  but  never  mind  your. fist,  my  boy." 

Horace  Stanhope  drew  his  wife  down  upon  his  knee  when 
she  was  safely  shut  in  with  him  from  the  world  again,  and 
question  after  question  was  propounded,  until  all  that  had 
transpired  in  her  absence  was  rehearsed  in  his  jealous  ear, 
with  insinuations  relative  to  the  suppression  of  the  most 
important  items,  at  the  close,  on  the  part  of  the  eager,  invid- 
ious listener.  The  accusation  of  untruthfulness  was  then 
boldly  hurled  in  her  sober  face,  respecting  her  promise  with 
reference  to  Harry  Herbert. 

Bertha's  reply  has  been  recorded,  and  Horace  Stanhope 
felt  the  force  of  it  and  knew  he  must  surrender  at  discretion. 
His  tyrannical  soul  writhed  with  a  feeling  sense  of  his  pow- 
erlessness  to  coerce  her  from  further  performance  of  filial 
duty,  and  his  base  and  blind  spirit  resorted  to  a  fatal  expe- 
dient. 

Without  apparent  design  of  personal  violence,  he  dis- 
played a  weapon  on  an  occasion  of  renewed  jealousy,  hoping 
to  intimidate,  without  menaces,  and  subject  her  to  his  will 
through  fear.  Horace  Stanhope  was  so  cowardly  himself, 
18*  0 


210  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

he  fancied  he  could  swerve  her  from  the  right  by  secret 
apprehensions  of  sudden  death. 

Bertha  looked  steadily  in  his  wrathful  eyes,  and  it  pro- 
duced the  effect  that  an  unflinching  gaze  would  upon  a 
maniac.  He  subsided  quietly,  and  appropriated  the  weapon 
to  a  purpose  obviously  his  original  design,  but  he  retained 
the  instrument  in  his  chamber. 

Our  heroine  was  physically  weak,  though  morally  strong, 
and  she  averted  her  face  to  conceal  its  expression  when  her 
momentary  firmness  had  passed.  Horace  Stanhope  never 
knew  the  effect  of  his  dastardly  experiment,  but  he  felt  the 
consequences. 

Bertha  went  home  when  morning  dawned,  and  she  never 
returned  to  that  chamber  again.  Without  either  love  or 
respect,  and  now  impressed  with  the  secret  belief  of  an  im- 
perilled existence,  she  could  no  longer  dwell  beneath  the 
same  roof  with  Horace  Stanhope. 

He  went  for  her  when  "  night  dropped  her  sable  curtain 
down  and  pinned  it  with  a  star,"  but  a  servant  was  the  only 
answer  to  his  call.  Horace  Stanhope  returned  to  his  lonely 
room  —  made  lonely  by  his  own  wicked  and  unmanly 
spirit  —  hot  with  wrath  and  white  with  mortal  fear.  He 
felt  he  had  sealed  his  fate,  and  deeply  imprecated  his  pur- 
blind folly.  His  pillow  was  soaked  with  tears  when  morn- 
ing dawned,  for  Horace  Stanhope  was  miserable  without  his 
patient,  oppressed  Wife,  and  proved  his  faith  in  her  fidelity 
by  yearning  eagerness  to  regain  her  when  she  had  slipped 
from  his  grasp  through  his  own  treachery  and  unendurable 
tyranny. 

Bertha  declined  to  answer  his  repeated  calls  and  returned 
his  letters  unopened,  and  Horace  Stanhope  soon  fled  from 
Williamsville,  before  the  fear  of  being  imprisoned. 

The  sequel  showed  he  had  been  doing  business  "on  trust" 
for  the  firm  of  "  Cooley  &  Co.,"  through  the  influence  of  his 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         211 

city  brothers;  and  the  goods  sold  under  his  own  name  were 
''tied  up"  from  other  creditors.  He  had  become  involved 
upon  his  own  responsibility  in  Williamsville,  and  after 
Bertha's  desertion  his  creditors  would  have  pounced  upon 
him,  had  he  not  "beat  a  hasty  retreat." 

Bertha  was  once  more  left  to  quiet  repose,  believing  she 
would  not  be  disturbed  again  by  his  return  under  the  cir- 
cumstance. 

But  ere  the  summer  wTas  ended,  Horace  Stanhope  was 
again  in  Williamsville,  and  a  prisoner  for  debt!  He  had 
risked  his  liberty  to  test  his  power  with  the  hope  of  melting 
her  heart  to  sympathy  for  his  unfortunate  fate. 

Bertha  was  vanquished  by  this  event.  She  received  his 
letters,  and  comforted  him  with  a  reply.  She  was  not 
strong  enough  to  resist  the  supplications  of  one  in  his 
situation. 

Horace  Stanhope  lingered  in  Williamsville  after  his 
term  of  imprisonment  had  expired.  He  solemnly  vowed 
he  would  not  depart,  until  she  had  granted  him  one  inter- 
view. 

"It  can  do  no  harm,"  she  said  to  her  mother,  and,  to 
hasten  his  departure,  Mrs.  Belmont  assented. 

The  consequence  was,  our  heroine  went  out  from  the  home- 
roof  one  day,  and  was  drawn  by  Horace  Stanhope,  half  re- 
sisting and  wholly  in  tears,  through  the  little  yard-gate  — 
and  Bertha  never  stood  beneath  that  old,  loved  roof  again ! 

Horace  Stanhope  had  never  looked  so  handsome,  and 
tenderly  repentant,  as  when  he  exerted  all  his  powers  to 
accomplish  the  purpose  for  which  he  had  returned. 

"  I  will  die  at  your  feet  before  I  will  leave  you,  Bertha," 
he  said,  piteously,  "  for  life  will  be  valueless  without  you. 
I  have  suffered  enough  for  the  past  to  be  wiser  and  better  in 
future.  Go  with  me  to  my  home,  and,  so  help  me  God,  you 
shall  never  repent  your  confidence  !  " 


212         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  Oh,  I  can  not,  can  not !  "  she  cried,  in  agony.  "  If  we 
cannot  live  peaceably  here,  I  have  no  hope  of  happiness 
away.  You  will  forget  your  promise  in  the  future,  Horace, 
as  you  have  done  in  the  past,  and  I  shall  be  friendless  in  a 
strange  land." 

"  Dear,  try  me  and  see !  You  have  relations  in  New 
York,  and  my  brothers  long  to  welcome  you  to  their  homes. 
Trust  me  once  more,  Bertha,  and  if  you  are  not  content,  I 
will  return  you  to  your  home,  and  never  trouble  you  again 
—  so  help  me  God  !  " 

"  I  will  trust  you  again  here,  Horace,"  she  sobbed  ;  "  but, 
oh,  I  can  not  go  so  far  awTay  —  it  would  kill  my  poor 
mother!  You  promised  her  you  wTould  never  take  me  from 
my  home  ! " 

"  Dear,  I  could  not  foresee  what  would  occur  to  render 
it  necessary.  I  wrould  remain  now  for  your  sake,  if  there 
were  any  prospect  of  success  in  business ;  but  all  are  my 
enemies,  because  I  have  triumphed  over  them  in  winning 
you  (he  could  resort  to  flattery  now !  )  They  wTish  to  drive 
me  away,  and  divorce  you  —  I  have  heard  it !  " 

"  I  shall  never  be  divorced  —  I  scorn  the  thought ! "  she 
said,  indignantly.  "  And  besides,  if  I  desired  it,  it  could 
not  be  obtained.  Our  State  laws  are  not  so  liberal  as 
some." 

"  It  could  be  obtained  in  a  few  years,  if  I  remain  away, 
Bertha." 

"  If  I  am  ever  divorced,  it  will  be  by  your  act,  Horace, — 
rest  assured  of  that.  And  even  were  I  free  now  by  law  of 
man,  I  should  never  marry  again  while  you  live  —  a  higher 
law  forbids  it." 

Horace  Stanhope's  eyes  sparkled  with  exultation  a  mo- 
ment ;  then  he  thought  she  might  be  induced,  by  future 
arguments,  to  compromise  with  her  conscience.  He  renewed 
his  humble  entreaties  and  solemn  penitential  promises,  and 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         213 

bo  wrought  upon  her  weakness  and  sympathy  that,  in  a 
moment  of  forgetfulness  of  all  the  past,  he  drew  her  through 
the  little  yard-gate;  and  when  Mr.  Belmont  and  Claude 
returned  to  their  home,  the  old  house  was  desolate  and 
dripping  with  tears. 

"  Poor,  deluded  child !  "  said  Mr.  Bagby,  a  warm  friend 
of  the  family.  "  A  rope  of  sand  is  stronger  than  Stanhope's 
honor." 

"  She  's  weak  as  dish  -  water  —  let  her  take  the  con- 
sequences !  "  exclaimed  Dr.  Watson,  a  young  bachelor  and 
old-time  admirer  of  our  heroine  —  now  highly  indignant 
and  snappish. 

"She  married  him;  let  her  stick  to  'im  through  thick 
and  thin ! "  growled  Mr.  Smithson,  an  old  gray-headed 
bachelor.  "  Them  's  my  sentiments  !  "  he  snarled,  with 
half  angry  eyes. 

"  I  'm  glad  she  's  gone !  "  whispered  blue  -  eyed  Miss 
Evelyn  to  her  confidante,  who  subsequently  betrayed  her. 
"  Now  there  '11  be  some  chance  for  the  rest  of  us !  She  was 
in  the  way  before  her  marriage  with  that  good-for-nothing 
Yankee ;  and  I  've  heard  some  rumor  of  a  divorce." 

And  so  it  ran.  The  quiet  town  of  Williamsville  was  all 
alive  with  the  startling  news  of  our  heroine's  departure  for 
New  York  "with  that  Yankee  rascal  Stanhope";  and 
"  Bertha  the  Beauty  "  was  almost  universally  censured  for 
her  "  foolish  faith." 

Harry  Herbert  listened  quietly,  with  white  face  and 
firmly  set  lips,  to  the  remarks  of  the  indignant  citizens,  but 
made  no  comment.  Then  he  went  down  to  Mr.  Belmont's, 
and  condoled  with  the  bereaved  family. 


214  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY, 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

HORACE   STANHOPE'S   ANTECEDENTS. — ALONZO's 
OPINION   OF   BERTHA. 

HANNAH  STANHOPE  sat  in  a  vine-covered  portico, 
in  the  beautiful  town  of  Pittsfield,  Massachusetts,  with 
the  red  rays  of  an  August  sunset  kissing  the  cheek  of  de- 
parting day  to  a  deeper  blush. 

Hannah  was  musing  and  evidently  watching  for  some  one 
through  the  flowering  vines.  She  was  not  handsome,  but 
had  an  amiable,  inviting  face.  Her  kind  heart  kindled  in 
her  mild  eyes  at  every  breath  that  touched  her  sensitive  ear. 
She  was  not  handsome  now,  but  might  have  been,  in  early 
womanhood ;  but  the  freshness  and  bloom  of  youth  were 
gone  from  her  mature  and  chastened  face. 

She  had  buried  three  children  in  little  green  graves,  and 
was  alone  now,  and  as  she  sat,  in  that  rosy  August  eve,  her 
sober  blue  eyes  peered  through  the  vine-leaves  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  coming  husband  and  father  from  the  sultry 
city  of  Gotham. 

Hannah's  history  was  romantic.  In  early  youth  she  had 
loved  Alonzo  Stanhope,  but  her  father  refused  to  receive 
him  as  a  son-in-law.  Hannah  was  an  obedient  child,  and 
declined  to  marry,  without  her  father's  sanction,  until  she 
attained  her  majority. 

Alonzo  Stanhope  left  her,  angered  by  her  firm  adhesion 
to  principle,  and  emigrated  to  Tennessee.  He  there  mar- 
ried a  Southern  wife  and  became  the  father  of  three  chil- 
dren. Hannah  heard  of  his  inconstancy,  and  it  wrung  her 
faithful  heart ;  but  she  lived  on,  through  long  years  of  sin- 
gle blessedness,  with  a  fair  prospect,  considering  her  many 
rejected  suitors,  of  dying  an  old  maid. 


BEAUTY.  215 

Alonzo  Stanhope  buried  his  wife  and  children  in  Tennes- 
-  .  when  Hannah  Goodrich  had  attained  the  age  of  twenty- 
seven,  and  returned  to  his  early  home,  a  childless  widower. 
He  renewed  his  suit  to  faithful  Hannah,  and,  despite  her 
father's  still  existing  opposition,  they  were  married. 

Mr.  Goodrich  finally  became  reconciled  to  his  daughter's 
marriage  with  Alonzo  Stanhope; — he  proved  to  be  more 
worthy  of  Hannah's  affection  than  her  father  had  antici- 
pated. 

Mr.  Stanhope,  senior,  was  a  wealthy  citizen  of  Lenox, 
Massachusetts,  when  his  children  —  eight  sons  and  two 
daughters  —  were  born  ;  but  disobeying  the  commandment 
"  Be  not  thou  one  of  them  that  are  sureties  for  debt,"  he 
was  reduced,  by  a  friend's  failure  in  business  affairs,  from 
affluence  to  comparative  poverty 

Hence  his  children  were  indifferently  educated,  and,  as 
they  grew  up,  settled  down  to  a  clod-hopping  life,  with  no 
ambition  beyond  milch-cows  and  market-butter. 

Alonzo,  Allyn,  and  Horace  were  the  exceptions.  They 
broke  away  from  the  "farms,"  and  escaped  to  the  great 
iniquitous  city  of  Gotham,  and  acquired  the  polish  that 
contact  with  refined  society  affords. 

Alonzo  and  Allyn  were  sober,  self-sacrificing,  and  perse- 
vering men,  and,  consequently,  successful  adventurers  upon 
the  capricious  sea  of  fortune ;  but  Horace's  natural  indo- 
lence, self-indulgence,  and  restless  temperament  kept  him 
continually  under  the  wheel.  He  had  no  strength  of  char- 
acter, and  drifted  lazily  down  the  stream  to  dependence  and 
contempt,  without  an  effort  to  beat  against  the  waves  and 
secure  confidence  and  respect.  He  had  no  moral  strength, 
that  renders  one  worthy  the  esteem  of  his  fellows,  but  in  the 
pursuit  of  that  which  would  gratify  hi3  sensual  nature  his 
perseverance  was  surprising  —  he  had  no  superior.  His  sole 
dependence  for  the  future  was  upon  his  handsome  face  and 


216 

graceful  form.  He  soon  wearied  of  the  monotony  and  labor 
of  displaying  dry -goods  to  fastidious  customers.  He  would 
go  South  and  marry  a  girl  with  five  hundred  negroes  and 
boundless  acres. 

Horace  Stanhope's  purse  became  depleted,  through  his 
prodigal  propensities,  before  he  crossed  the  line  of  Mason 
and  Dixon.  He  was  an  elegant  penman,  and  his  wits  soon 
replenished  his  purse.  He  gave  lessons  to  a  select  few  in 
the  fine  art  of  chirography,  plainly  intimating  it  was  from 
a  spirit  of  romance,  and  not  from  necessity.  His  charge  for 
the  great  condescension  was  aristocratic.  He  succeeded 
admirably. 

Bertha  Belmont's  evil  genius  led  Horace  Stanhope  to 
Williamsville  the  same  week  of  her  father's  return  to  her 
native  town.  She  met  him,  the  first  Sabbath  after  her 
arrival,  in  an  evening  walk.  His  sensual  soul  was  fired 
by  her  rare  beauty  and  native  innocence.  He  watched 
her  to  her  home,  and  the  following  day  he  succeeded  in 
obtaining  an  introduction  into  it,  with  a  proposition  to  Mr. 
Belmont  to  receive  his  daughter  as  an  "honorary  member " 
of  the  select  class  he  was  forming;  to  which  Mr.  Belmont 
assented,  and  entered  Claude  as  a  paying  pupil  through 
partiality  for  his  own  people. 

Thus  commenced  an  acquaintance  that  eventually  proved 
fatal  to  the  peace  of  all  parties. 

Horace  Stanhope's  design  in  securing  "  Bertha  the  Beauty '' 
as  an  "honorary  member"  very  speedily  became  manifest. 
His  devotion  to  her  became  the  town-talk.  The  belles  en- 
vied her,  and  the  beaux  him.  They  were  a  well-matched 
pair,  for  beauty  and  grace.  Mr.  Belmont  favored  his  suit, 
and  threw  impediments  in  the  way  of  other-  admirers. 
Claude  was  wholly  won  by  the  charming  and  artful  lover, 
and  reproved  his  sister  for  her  lack  of  appreciation.  In  an 
evil  hour  Bertha  yielded,  and  sealed  her  late ! 


217 

In  marrying  Bertha,  Horace  Stanhope  had  fallen  very  Par 
Bhort  of  "five  hundred  negroes  and  boundless  acres,"  but 
pride  and  passion  must  be  gratified  at  any  cost.  It  was  well 
worth  a  sacrifice  to  triumph  over  so  many  competitors  for 
tho  beautiful  prize,  and  then,  his  heart  was  involved. 
Horace  Stanhope  acknowledged  he  had  never  loved  till 
now. 

Besides,  Mr.  Belmont  was  in  easy  circumstances,  and  even 
It  a  pecuniary  point  of  view  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  bargain. 
I  Be  very  readily  promised  never  to  take  Bertha  from  her 
home,  for  then  he  would  not  be  necessitated  to  exert  him- 
self for  her  support.  He  was  nothing  loth  to  be  relieved  of 
that  responsibility. 

Horace  Stanhope  was  content  to  remain  in  idleness  under 
his  father-in-law's  roof,  until  he  was  established  in  business 
upon  capital  advanced  by  the  disappointed  old  man,  who 
finally  cast  him  out  in  disgust,  as  a  dishonest,  green-eyed, 
graceless  adventurer. 

Hannah  Stanhope's  blue  eyes  brightened,  as  she  peered 
through  the  vine -leaves.  He  was  coming;  she  distin- 
guished his  familiar  form  through  the  deepening  dusk. 

She  went  soberly  forward,  and  met  his  extended  hand. 
There  were  no  manifestations  of  deep  feeling  in  that  quiet 
greeting  ;  and  yet  she  loved  him  far  more  than  he  was 
capable  of  feeling  affection.  Hannah  knew  that,  yet  she 
Dever  betrayed  it  in  words  or  seeming. 

They  sat  down  in  the  fragrant  portico. 

"  Horace  has  come,"  he  said,  soberly. 

"  And  his  wife  ?  " 

"Yes  — at  last!" 

"  Is  she  as  beautiful  as  she  has  been  represented? " 

"Even  more!  There  is  a  soul-loveliness  that  no  artist 
can  paint.  Bertha  possesses  it ;  and  you  must  see  her,  to 
comprehend  all  her  charms.  A  lovelier  woman  never  met 
19 


218  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

a  luckless  fate !  Horace  borrowed  money  of  a  stranger  on 
his  way  up  to  defray  their  expenses  to  New  York,  and  called 
on  me  for  the  amount  to  repay  the  debt !  I  declined  the 
honor,  and  he  's  dodging  around  in  the  city  to  avoid  his 
creditor.     He  grows  worse  daily." 

"  My  dear !  Should  n't  have  thought  a  stranger  would 
lend." 

"  He  's  from  "Washington,  North  Carolina,  on  a  summer 
visit  to  Saratoga  and  the  Lakes ;  and  I  've  no  doubt,  pity 
for  Bertha  induced  the  loan.  His  sister  is  with  him,  and 
the  two  girls  (for  Bertha  is  a  mere  child  in  appearance) 
formed  quite  a  friendship  during  the  journey.  They  all 
stopped  at  Old  Point  a  week  —  Horace  nourishing  on  bor- 
rowed funds,  and  Bertha  ignorant  of  the  fact.  She  knows 
it  now  though,  and  the  knowledge  hurts  her." 

"  What  on  earth  will  become  of  that  fellow,  'Lonzo  ?  " 

"  Lord  knows  !  He  's  now  at  a  private  boarding-house  on 
Greenwich  Street,  without  any  prospect  of  being  able  to 
pay.  He 's  coming  up  to  Berkshire  next  week,  to  sponge  on 
his  relations,  if  he  can  manage  to  slip  off  from  his  land- 
lady !  " 

"  Dear,  dear,  what  a  worthless  man ! " 

"  He 's  no  man  —  he'sa  twenty-five  year  old  boy;  and  a 
dreadfully  dishonest  one  at  that !  " 

"  I  wonder  his  wife  followed  him  !  " 

"  I  do.  He  says  he  '  stole  her  away  from  the  old  codger/ 
Cooley  says,  you  know,  the  Belmonts  hate  him  like  poison  ; 
and  I  don't  believe  Bertha  loves  him,  from  the  look  she 
gave  him  when  the  borrowed  money  business  was  exposed. 
I  don't  understand  it  —  it  passes  my  powers  of  comprehen- 
sion.    I  pity  the  girl." 

"  Why  on  earth  don't  he  go  to  work,  and  earn  a  living?" 

"  That 's  it !  He  makes  money  enough  when  he  tries,  but 
it's  sooner  gone  than  made;  and  where  it  goes  to,  the  deuce 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         219 

only  knows!  He  ought  to  have  had  enough  to  carry  him 
to  Carolina  and  back  with  his  wife,  with  the  salary  Allyn 
paid  him  before  he  left.  And  now  the  dog  won't  work. 
There  's  no  vacancy  in  Allyn's  store  now,  and  last  week  I 
got  him  into  a  grocery  establishment;  but  the  fellow  threw 
it  up  in  a  day.  I  guess,  Til  have  to  support  him,  when  we 
return  to  the  city  —  so  long  as  that  poor  child  remains  with 
him.     I  won't  see  her  suffer  —  that 's  flat !  " 

"  I  guess  she  won't  stay  long,  if  she  's  honorable." 
"  I  guess  you  'd  think  she  was  honorable,  if  you  'd  seen 
her  indignant,  scornful  face  (I  can't  call  it  by  any  other 
name !  )  when  that  borrowed  money  business  came  to  light. 
I  thought  the  blood  w7ould  come  through  her  cheeks,  and 
her  eyes  flashed  like  lightning  —  and  such  a  curl  of  that 
little  red  mouth!  /should  have  been  extinguished,  if  I'd 
stood  in  his  shoes;  but  Horace  coolly  excused  himself,  by 
saying  '  it  was  for  her  sake.'  The  fellow  has  a  surprisingly 
hard  cheek  ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


LOR'  bless  yer  heart,  honey !  I  never  seed  sich  a  nice 
cake  'fore.  I  named  it  Mars  Wallie,  an'  it 's  riz  an' 
sponged  up  just  as  good  as  kin  be !  Dat  shows  'is  dispersi- 
tion.  I  oilers  knowed  it,  honey  ;  for  'e  's  pine  blank  like  'is 
ma,  in  an'  out  —  bless  his  blue  eyes ! 

"An'  you's  gwine  ter  have  'im  at  las,'  honey  —  he,  he! 
I  knowed  when  de  snail  rit  in  de  plate,  't  was  boun'  ter  be ; 
kase  snails  never  failed  yit  —  bless  'em !  I  gwine  ter  eat 
some  cake  ter-morrer  night  —  'deed  I  is  so !    Lor'  bless  yer 


220  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY 


heart,  chile,  dare  ain't  a  gladder  nigger  dis  side  o'  heaben 
dan  ole  Aunt  Cory,  dis  niinnet !  Jes'  tack  dem  turkey 
wings  'tween  my  shoul'ers,  honey,  an'  I'll  fly  'way  home !  — 
An'  Miss  Bert 's  cornin',  too,  honey;  dat's  — " 

"  ]S"o,  aunty  ;  Bertha  will  not  come." 

"  Wha  —  wa  —  what  fur,  chile  ?  " 

"Bertha  is  gone! — gone  to  New  York  with  that  Stan- 
hope !  " 

"  Lordy,  massy,  honey  !     You  don'  se'  so,  chile !  " 

"  Peter  is  just  up  from  Williamsville,  and  brings  the  sad 
news.  She  left  two  weeks  ago,  and  that  is  why  I  failed  to 
receive  her  expected  letter.  Mr.  Belmont's  family  is  nearly 
deranged,  and  the  whole  town  is  in  a  ferment." 

"  Massy  on  us,  chile !     What  made  'er  done  go  for?" 

"Stanhope  half  stole,  half  forced  her  away.  Mr.  Bel- 
mont and  Claude  were  absent,  or  the  mean  Yankee  jail-bird 
would  not  have  ventured  near  her  home." 

"  Good  maister,  honey !  why  did  n't  da  take  'er  'way 
frum  'im  ? " 

"  The  law  forbade,  when  she  was  in  his  power.  Claude 
—  poor  boy!  —  returned  before  they  had  left  town.  He 
watched  his  opportunity,  and  would  speak  to  Bertha  before 
she  was  taken  away.  They  say  it  almost  broke  her  heart. 
She  screamed  and  clung  to  him,  and  would,  no  doubt,  have 
run  away  home ;  but  Stanhope  held  her  firmly  around  the 
waist  with  both  arms  —  the  wretch  !  He  forced  her  away 
from  Claude,  and  lifted  her  into  the  carriage,  half  wild  with 
grief." 

"Po'  thing!  po'  thing!  I '11  never  see  'er  no  more  now, 
honey,  fur  shore!"  groaned  Aunt  Cora,  over  the  wedding- 
cake,  as  she  drew  her  check  apron  hastily  over  her  eyes. 
"Dat's  what  da  got  fur  makin  'er  have  'im!"  she  growled, 
presently.  "  Good  'miff  fur  'em,  ef  't  were  n't  fur  her —  po' 
thins !" 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  221 

"Yes,  aunty  ;  they  repent  in  sackcloth  and  ashes  —  now 
that  it  is  too  late.  If  parents  would  leave  their  children  to 
make  their  own  choice  of  a  life-partner,  there  'd  be  fewer 
unhappy  marriages.  Old  people  are  not  proper  persons  to 
select  for  the  young — just  as  though  a  young  heart  could 
be  moulded  by  old  hands!  I  don't  pity  him,  —  he  richly 
merits  what  he  's  got,  and  so  thinks  the  community  in  which 
he  lives ;  but  Mrs.  Belmont  is  an  object  of  sympathy.  It 
is  thought  she  will  lose  her  mind." 

"  My  lord,  chile !  dat  's  worse  'n  all  —  po'  thing  !  po* 
thing ! " 

Edalia  left  the  old  woman  groaning  over  the  tray,  the 
delight,  in  anticipation  of  the  convivialities  of  "  ter-morrer 
night,"  all  gone  from  her  sympathizing  heart,  and  entered 
the  "  great  house." 

A  knock  at  the  door  summoned  Di,  and  Mr.  Wilmer  was 
announced.  At  his  request,  Edalia  called  her  uncle  and 
Walter  from  the  office. 

Mr.  Redmond  welcomed  the  visitor  cordially,  but  Edalia 
observed  the  peculiar  expression  that  invariably  marked 
his  features  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Wilmer. 

"  I  have  learned,"  commenced  Mr.  Wilmer,  "that  a  union 
of  the  Redmond  and  Eldon  races  is  on  the  eve  of  consum- 
mation, and  though  it  may  seem  impertinent,  under  circum- 
stances as  they  now  appear  to  exist,  to  you,  yet  I  desire  to 
ask,  have  I  been  correctly  informed  ? " 

"  You  have,  sir,"  returned  Mr.  Redmond,  with  pale  lips 
and  agitated  tone. 

Mr.  Wilmer  sprang  up  and  advanced  toward  the  old 
man. 

"  And  will  you  bestow  your  wealth  and  the  hand  of  your 
niece  on  the  penniless  son  of  him  who  has  wronged  you 
beyond  reparation,  and  the  grandson  of  him  who  has  ren- 
dered your  life  lonely  and  unblest  by  the  nearest  and  dear- 
19* 


222  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

est  of  earthly  ties  through  avarice  and  unparalleled  parental 
stoicism  ?  " 

"  I  have,  sir." 

Walter  sprang  up. 

"  Penniless !  You  have  hitherto  evaded  my  inquiries 
relative  to  this  subject,  sir,  but  I  thought  —  " 

"  Boy,"  interrupted  Mr.  Redmond,  "  you  are  my  adopted 
son.'" 

Walter  dropped  down  beside  Edalia  with  a  troubled  air. 

Mr.  Wilmer  turned  and  confronted  the  young  man. 

"  What  did  you  think  ?  It  may  be  to  your  advantage  to 
answer  me  freely." 

"  That  I  was  not  a  penniless  aspirer  to  this  hand,  sir;  that, 
notwithstanding  all  his  unmerited  care  and  kindness  from 
infancy  to  mature  years,  I  was  asking  all  he  has  to  bestow ! " 

"You  are  not  a  penniless  aspirer  to  that  hand,  sir.  You 
are  the  son  of  a  wealthy  and  repentant  man.  Boy,  I  am 
Wilmer  Eldon  —  your  father  !  " 

He  threw  off  the  dark  tresses  that  hid  his  gray  locks  as 
he  spoke. 

Mr.  Redmond  shrank  back  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands,  and  Walter  sprang  to  his  father's  embrace.  The  old 
man  bowed  his  head  upon  his  boy's  shoulder,  and,  like  re- 
pentant Peter,  he  "  wept  bitterly." 

Mr.  Eldon  advanced  towards  Mr.  Redmond. 

"  Edward,  it  is  written,  '  If  you  forgive  not  men  their 
trespasses,  neither  will  your  father  in  heaven  forgive  your 
trespasses.'  I  can  never  repair  the  wrong  I  have  done  you, 
but  will  you  forgive  that  wrong  ?  " 

Mr.  Redmond  grasped  his  extended  hand,  and  the  old 
pleasantry  returned  to  his  moist  eyes  and  placid  mouth. 

They  gathered  around  the  long-lost,  to  hear  the  story  of 
years  that  were  gone.     It  ran  : 

il\  left  the  scene  of  my  ruin  and  wretchedness,  a  reckless 


BEAUTY.  223 

and  hopeless  man.  God  only  knows  how  fondly  I  loved 
her,  to  obtain  whom  I  compromised  my  honor  and  manhood. 
I  inveigled  her  father  into  a  pecuniary  obligation,  and  de- 
manded his  daughter  as  an  equivalent  —  a  work  of  super- 
erogation, for  he  was  but  too  ready  to  sacrifice  her  at  the 
shrine  of  his  god — gold. 

"  I  thought  to  win  her  by  unwearied  care  and  devotion  ; 
but  though  ever  gentle  and  irreproachable  in  demeanor, 
her  young  face,  that  grew  w7hiter  and  thinner  day  by  day, 
drove  me  to  madness  and  the  wine-cup.  I  became  cruel  and 
tyrannical.  Our  child  was  my  aversion,  for  it  was  wor- 
shipped by  the  heart  that  was  closed  upon  its  father. 

"  With  her  died  all  my  hopes.  I  plunged  deeper  into 
dissipation,  and  the  gaming-table  completed  my  ruin. 

"  I  fled  in  despair,  and  left  my  helpless  boy  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  chance. 

"  Years  passed  away,  and  I  wedded  again  —  a  fair  young 
girl,  who  gave  me  her  whole  heart;  and  for  a  time  I  forgot, 
in  her  love,  my  former  degradation  and  misery.  But  a 
change  came  and  I  fell,  to  rise  too  late  to  retrieve  all  that 
was  lost ! 

"  But  you  know  all  that.  Months  ago,  I  told  you,  when 
I  stood  before  you,  after  the  lapse  of  many  years,  in  the 
character  of  a  Temperance  Lecturer.  Temperance  !  it  has 
been  my  salvation  !  In  an  hour  when  the  good  angel 
wrestled  and  prevailed,  I  pledged  myself  to  total  abstinence 
from  the  'enemy  that  steals  away  the  brain;'  —  and  from 
that  hour  I  have  been  a  reformed  man. 

11 1  remembered  my  poor  lone  boy,  and  to  make  some 
amends  for  the  past  I  went  to  the  land  of  gold.  I  succeeded 
beyond  my  expectations,  and  turned  my  steps  homeward. 
A  spirit  of  romance  came  over  me,  and  I  assumed  a  stranger- 
guise.  I  watched  you  narrowly,  and  soon  found  that  my 
boy  and   your  girl  were  destined  to  make  us  forget  past 


224 

enmity,  by  a  union  of  names  and  fortunes;  for  I  knew  you 
too  well  to  doubt  your  consent,  on  the  ground  of  pecuniary 
considerations.     I  waited  the  result,  and  it  has  come." 

Mr.  Redmond  started  up,  buoyantly. 

"  By  Jove,  it  was  the  'leventh  hour !  I  saw  what  the 
mischief  was,  and  had  to  practise  deception  upon  the  young 
gentleman's  credulity,  or  the  end  would  not  have  been  yet! 
The  boy  a  as  proud  as  Lucifer !  —  hanged  if  he  ain't,  by 
Jupiter  ! " 

Aunt  Cora  forgot,  for  a  time,  her  great  grief  for  "  Miss 
Bert's  "  absence,  over  the  glorious  news  of  "  Mars  Wallie's 
good  luck  ; "  and  little  Dick  turned  a  glad  somerset  as 
he  pitched  out  of  the  kitchen-door  on  a  brisk  run  for  the 
parlor,  "  to  git  a  good  look  through  de  crack  at  Mars  Wal- 
lie's bran-new  pa ! " 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 


CHUSETTS. 

IT  was  a  sober,  sweet  September  evening  —  Martha  Stan, 
hope  called  it  "  afternoon,"  as  she  parted  with  a  neigh- 
bor at  the  kitchen-door. 

Silas  was  shelling  corn  for  the  pig,  and  "  Newt  "  was  kill- 
ing flies  on  the  red  cow,  when  the  stopping  of  a  carriage  at 
the  door  aroused  all  parties. 

"  I  swan,  if  there  ain't  Horace !  "  said  Silas,  in  a  shiver. 

"  Good  land  !  —  and  his  wife !  "  exclaimed  Martha,  under 
her  breath. 

u  Where 's  my  new  trousers,  mother  ?  "  whispered  "Newt," 
springing  in  from  the  cow-pen  in  a  flutter. 


225 

Newt  was  twelve  years  of  age,  and  was  beginning  to  feel 
manly  ;  besides,  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  Bertha's  beau- 
tiful face,  and  felt  a  sudden  impulse  to  look  as  well  himself 
as  circumstances  would  allow. 

"Git  eout,  yeou!"  said  Martha,  giving  her  boy  a  poke 
with  her  nervous  hand  —  "  't  ain't  Sunday !  " 

Newt  sniffed,  notwithstanding  his  manhood  ;  but  curiosity 
got  the  better  of  his  indignation.  He  crawled  over  Martha's 
bed,  and  peered  through  the  small  window  at  the  descend- 
ing stranger  —  his  "Southern  aunt." 

"  A-i-n'-t  she  a  beauty,  mother  !     Jiminy  criminy  —  " 

"Hush  that!"  commanded  Martha,  tying  on  a  clean 
apron  with  all  speed.  "I  want  yeou  should  stop  swearin' 
or  I'll—" 

"Golly!  that  ain't  swearin',  mother  —  he-aw  !  Deacon 
Smith  says  it." 

"Deacon  Smith  ain't  no  better 'n  he  should  be,  then! 
Don't  yeou  let  me  catch  yeou  talkin'  after  Deacon  Smith 
so  fash!" 

Silas  jerked  on  his  coat,  in  honor  of  a  stranger's  arrival, 
and  met  his  visitors  at  the  gate,  with  a  little  timidity  per- 
ceptible in  his  sun-burnt  face. 

"  Wall,  neow,  I  be  rale  glad  tew  see  ye,  Horace,  and  —  " 
he  glanced  modestly  at  our  heroine. 

"  My  wife,  brother  Silas,  — your  sister  Bertha." 

"  How  d'ye  c/o,"  said  Silas,  taking  the  little  hand  with  a 
grip  that  was  pleasant  when  he  let  it  go  — "I  swan  tew  man 
if  I  ain't  pleased  tew  see  ye  at  larst !  'Lonzo  said  yeou  'd 
be  along  our  way  some  time,  but  we  'd  a'most  give  up  hopin'. 
Come  in  an'  rest,  won't  ye  ?  Guess  yeou  're  abeout  tuckered 
eout,  ben'tye?" 

Bertha  looked  at  Horace  with  silent  wonder.  She  had 
never  heard  the  Yankee  language  spoken  to  perfection 
before. 

P 


226  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

Horace's  handsome  mouth  dropped  on  one  side  with 
amusement,  as  he  looked  at  her,  and  followed  Silas  into  the 
"  keepin'-room." 

Martha's  greeting  was  quite  as  cordial  as  her  lord's,  with 
less  timidity.  She  was  a  genuine,  whole-hearted,  home- 
made woman ;  and  Bertha  felt  her  goodness  at  a  glance. 
Her  home-sickness  wore  away  in  Martha's  presence. 

Our  heroine  wTould  have  taken  more  to  Silas,  but  for  his 
bare  feet  —  the  sight  of  them  repelled  her  by  the  vulgarity 
of  the  display. 

But  Bertha  learned  to  feel  more  kindly  towards  her  new 
brother-in-law  during  their  three  weeks'  stay  under  his  hum- 
ble roof.  His  kind  heart  drew  her  irresistibly  towards  him, 
despite  his  plebeian  appearance  and  amusing  style  of  address. 

Little  Martha,  the  eldest  girl,  of  four  summers,  crept 
timidly  up  behind  our  heroine's  chair,  and  softly  kissed  the 
cheek  of  "  Aunt  Berta." 

Bertha  drew  the  shy  but  loving  little  creature  upon  her 
lap,  and  pressed  her  lips  upon  the  modest  little  mouth, 
entering  into  a  conversation  with  the  timid  thing  with  such 
familiarity  and  interest  that  the  child's  warm  heart  was 
very  speedily  and  effectually  won. 

She  crept  back  into  the  kitchen,  wThere  poor  Newt  was 
skulking  in  dirty  clothes,  and  clapped  her  bits  of  hands 
gleefully,  exclaiming : 

"  I  dooz  love  Aunt  Berta  —  I  dooz !  I  ben't  one  bit 
'feard  of  'er  now,  Newt  —  goody !  " 

"  Where  's  Newton  ?  "  inquired  Horace,  wThen  the  younger 
children  had  all  paid  their  respects  to  the  visitors. 

Martha  laughed,  shutting  her  eyes  so  tightly  during  the 
process,  that  Bertha's  orbs  twinkled. 

"  Newt 's  ashamed  tew  let  his  new  aunt  see  him  without 
his  Sunday  go-tew-meetin's  on !  I  guess  his  pride  '11  be  his 
pizen,  ef  he  lives  long !  " 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  227 

Horace  slipped  into  the  kitchen,  and  dragged  Newt  from 
under  the  bed  and  into  the  "  keepin'-room,"  blushing  like 
a  peony  in  the  presence  of  the  Southern  stranger.  Tears  of 
mortification  stood  in  his  youthful  eyes. 

Bertha  took  his  little  hard  hand  and  kissed  his  boyish 
mouth  so  kindly,  smoothing  his  young  crown  so  familiarly, 
that  Newt  looked  up  in  astonishment.  His  awkwardness 
wore  away  gradually,  until  the  bright  boy  evidently  forgot 
his  work-clothes  in  listening  to  and  admiring  his  "beautiful 
and  good-hearted  new  aunt." 

Our  heroine's  eyes  wandered  over  the  supper-table  with 
quick  but  suppressed  surprise.  Pickles  and  pork,  potatoes 
and  pies,  custard  and  cake,  coffee  and  tea,  were  all  there! 
And  Bertha  observed  that  the  family  removed  the  pickles 
with  their  fingers !  She  w7ondered  if  they  wrould  the  pork, 
and  was  gratified  to  find  the  Southern  style  was  practised 
in  that  respect  —  but  she  made  no  comments.  She  avoided 
carefully  all  remarks  that  might  have  a  tendency  to  hurt 
Horace,  or  annoy  his  friends. 

She  looked  around  at  the  high  mountains  shutting  her  in 
from  the  world,  and  requested  Horace  to  point  out  the 
South.  Then  her  yearning  gaze  went  off  in  that  direction, 
and  her  aching  heart  climbed  over  the  tall  rocks,  and  stood 
silently  in  her  dear,  old,  deserted  home. 

What  had  she  suffered  since  she  left  that  home!  How 
had  she  been  disappointed  and  shamed  by  the  discovery  of 
a  new  trait  in  her  husband's  character  —  him,  for  whom 
she  had  left  all,  and  followed  to  a  strange  land ! 

But  Bertha  did  not  know  all  then.  She  was  not  aware 
of  the  humiliating  fact  that  their  board  was  unpaid  on 
Greenwich  Street ;  that  their  landlady  had  suffered  Horace 
Stanhope  to  leave  her  house  without  cancelling  his  debt, 
glad  to  get  rid  of  him  on  such  easy  terms !  The  poor  widow 
was  quite  loth  to  trust  him  for  a  longer  stay,  and  relied 


223 

upon  his  city   brothers   for   indemnification  for 

nly  knew  Bhe  had  to  go  supperless  up  the  Hudson, 

i,  as  Horace  had  only  means  to  pay  their 
rkshire,  •  of  board  :  and  how  he  ob- 

tained that  she  never  knew.     She  had  casually  learned  his 

l  to  her  Carolina  friend,  and  shame  and  di- 
crirnsoned  her  cheeks,  and  curled  her  expressive  lips. 

But  Bertha  mad  plaint  and  uttered  no  word  of 

reproach.    He  was  kind  to  her,  and  she  would  test  him  to 
the  furthest  extent  of  patience  and  forbearance. 

B  -una  called  him  kind,  because  he  had  uttered  no  profane 
word  in  a  towering  passion,  and  shed  tears  in  a  state  of  after 
repentance.    But  Bertha  knew  t".    _  -  -  yet  in  its 

nest,  neither  killed  nor  scotched.     It  had  reared  its  reptile 
head  and  hissed  threateningly  on  several  occasions,  sine 
left  her  home,  notwithstanding  she  had  left  all  to  follow  him! 

Her  Carolina  friend  had  come  in  for  a  good  share  of  his 
Bnakeship'fl  spite;  and  Horace  had  abandoned  Old  Point 
Comfort  a  day  in  advance  of  his  benefactor,  to  avoid  his 
further  gallantry  towards  his  lovely  young  wife  !  Bertha 
found  there  was  neither  gratitude  nor  spark  of  sensibility 
in  Horace  Stanhope's  nature,  when  she  learned  the  im] 
tion  deliberately  practised  upon  his  kind  and  magnanimous 
Carolina  friend. 

Why  had  he  molested  her  in  her  peaceful  and  plenteous 
borne,  and  half  forced  her  away  from  tender  relatives  and 
faithful  friends,  if  he  had  not  the  means  necessary  to  defray 
her  expenses  to  his  own  land,  and  furnish  her  with  food, 
when  there? 

AVas  that  love,  which  deprived  the  object  of  every  comfort 
of  life,  and  held  it  in  bands  of  tyranny,  subject  to  its  own 
selfish  and  arbitrary  will? 

Bertha  was  growing  sceptical  of  Horace  Stanhope's  love. 
that  he  had  her  away  from  the  home-roof,  he  ma<!' 


BEAUTY.  229 

effort  to  keep  up  the  appearance  of  honesty  and  industry 
for  their  support,  and  playfully  ridiculed  her  conscientious 
scruples  relative  to  his  dishonest  course. 

Bertha  found  Horace  Stanhope  was  content  to  live  upon 
others'  bounty,  without  any  exertions  of  his  own.  He  had 
refused  a  situation  in  New  York  simply  because  it  was  too 
laborious,  and  took  him  several  squares  from  her  during  the 
day.  He  had,  heretofore,  had  her  beneath  the  same  roof  of 
his  business  establishment,  or  so  near  that  he  could  watch 
her  from  the  window. 

Mr.  Belmont  had  erected  a  store  in  his  yard  for  the  de- 
voted young  husband's  accommodation,  and  Bertha  never 
left  her  home,  or  received  a  call,  but  Horace  Stanhope  was 
close  at  hand. 

Now  that  she  was  wholly  in  his  power,  as  he  imagined, 
(for-  Horace  Stanhopte  deemed  his  frail,  leaning  wife  incapa- 
ble of  strong  and  secret  efforts  to  liberate  herself  from  bond- 
age,) Hume  and  Voltaire  revived,  in  all  their  fearful  force, 
in  his  spirit,  and  Bertha  shrank,  shudderingly,  from  the 
infidel  principles. 

How  unlike  the  pious  sentiments  he  had  penned  a  few 
weeks  ago,  when  he  was  at  her  mercy  and  had  an  ob^ct  to 
accomplish.  Now  she  was  in  his  power,  and  the  mask  was 
no  longer  needed,  and  Horace  Stanhope  dropped  it  as  an 
incumbrance. 

He  said,  shamelessly,  "his  great  love  for  her  had  induced 

him  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity,  knowing  her  Puritan 

principles;  and  he  was  none  the  worse  for  his  faith;  he  loved 

her  with  his  belief,  and  she  did  not  love  him  with  hers ! 

He  had  not  perjured  himself  at  the  bridal  altar,  but  she 

had  !     Which  was  the  better  of  the  two?     He  was  just  as 

God  made  him  — couldn't  make  himself  otherwise;  and  he 

was  not  responsible  for  his  actions  or  belief! " 

Bertha  discovered  he  had  veered  from  infidelity  to  Uni- 
l>0  J 


230  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

versa] ism  —  converted,  no  doubt,  under  the  eloquent  ora- 
tions of  that  popular  champion  of  salvation  for  rogues  — 
Chapin ! 

She  wondered  if  he  would  not  be  proselyted  to  the  true 
faith  under  the  political  preachings  of  that  highly-gifted  and 
higher-salaried  popular  favorite  —  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

But  Bertha  did  not  attempt  to  combat  his  faith;  she 
knew  her  impotence,  and  endured  his  mingled  mirth  and 
sarcasm  in  silence,  veiling  her  eyes  to  hide  their  spirit-fire. 

Twice  they  had  been  separated,  each  time  under  different 
circumstances ;  twice  she  had  trusted  and  hoped.  The  third 
time  would  be  fatal.  Now  that  she  had  ventured  all,  she 
would  bear  and  forbear,  so  long  as  bearing  and  forbearing 
was  a  duty  and  a  virtue. 

Horace  Stanhope  fancied  her  utterly  helpless  in  his  grasp. 
He  guarded  her  all  day  long,  and  knew  she  had  no  friends 
at  command.  He  insisted  upon  reading  her  letters  home,  and 
never  allowed  her  to  have  the  first  perusal  of  one  from  her 
friends ;  Bertha  invariably  received  them  with  broken  seals. 

He  kept  her  in  ignorance  of  her  city  relatives,  and  Bertha 
left  New  York  for  Massachusetts  without  the  knowledge  of 
their  locality. 

And  now,  as  she  stood,  with  longing  gaze  going  up  the 
black  sides  of  the  granite  mountains  that  shut  her  in  from 
all  she  loved  best,  and  whose  lives  were  bound  up  in  hers, 
memory  was  active,  and  the  face  looked  over  the  lonely  hills 
from  the  sweet  South,  and  deepened  her  distress. 

Bertha  never  saw  that  face  distinctly,  only  in  her  darkest 
hours  of  yearning  and  remorse.  It  grew  faint  in  the  sun- 
shine, but  full  in  the  shade.  It  was  a  living  reproach  for 
the  weakness  of  the  past. 

Horace  Stanhope's  keen  eyes  saw  the  shadow  deepening 
in  her  homeward  gaze,  and  a  fierce  light  gleamed  from  the 
green  orbs. 


BEAUTY.  231 

"  She  was  grieving  for  her  old  lovers,"  he  said,  as  he  drew 
her  away,  and  then  kissed  the  small  mouth,  with  the  manly 
assurance  that  "  it  was  only  in  fun,"  when  he  saw  moisture 
in  her  eyes. 

When  Martha  found  herself  alone  with  Silas,  she  half 
whispered,  lest  the  visitors  should  overhear: 

"  Neow  ben't  she  a  beauty  ?  I  dew  say  !  " 

"  She 's  pooty  as  a  pictur,  I  swan  !  "  said  Silas,  peeling  off 
his  coat  with  all  speed,  in  which  he  had  been  victimized  all 
the  evening  out  of  respect  for  his  company. 

But  Silas's  self-sacrifice  stopped  there.  He  could  not 
encase  his  feet  in  shoes ;  that  was  beyond  his  constitutional 
strength.  He  had  a  natural  repugnance  to  shoes,  except  as 
a  protection  against  Jack  Frost. 

"I  swan  tew  man,"  he  continued,  "if  I  don't  pity  the 
child !  She 's  smilin'  and  sweet  as  a  basket  o'  chips,  but 
there 's  a  look  out  'n  her  eyes  that  ben't  good  for  gladness. 
Sure  's  a  gun,  it  ben't  all  right  inside  of  her  'pearance, 
mother." 

"Seems  like  she  dooz  look  for  something  that 's  lost,  when 
she  ben't  talkin'.  Her  eyes  look  away  beyant  ye,  when  ye 
look  in  'em ;  makes  me  feel  kind  o'  queer  sometimes.  But 
Horace  don't  let  'er  think  long.  How  that  fellow  dooz  keep 
fussin  round  !  " 

"  He 's  too  proud  of  'er  for  her  good,  I  calculate.  I  don't 
like  that  grievin'  look  out'n  her  eyes  —  that's  so!  I'd 
like  tew  know  if  she  loves  him  ;  a  body  can't  tell  from  her 
looks,  I  swan  !  " 

"  I  guess  she  dooz,  or  she  would  n't  be  here.  I  wonder 
how  Horace  got  'er  away  from  the  old  folks ;  did  n't  'Lonzo 
tell?" 

"No;  the  fellow  was  clus-mouthed  as  a  chestnut-bur.  I 
never  did  see  the  beat  of  it,  'fore  day  !  I  knowed  some  'n 
was  up  when  that  fellow  cut  so  shy,  I  swan ! " 


232  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"  Guess  not.  Horace  is  tender  of  'er  as  a  siickm'  babe, 
and  she  seems  tew  feel  thankful  for  his  kindness.  I  don't 
see  no  cause  for  complaint  nowhere." 

"  Wall,  I  hope  you  're  right,  but  I  have  my  doubts  ;  them 
eyes  don't  look  right,  tew  my  mind.  Who  ever  saw  such 
hands,  I  'd  like  tew  know7 !  —  hardly  a  mite  bigger  than  our 
little  Mat's,  and  white  as  two  snow-flakes  at  that !  Them 
hands  never  done  no  work,  you  may  bet  —  and  Horace  poor 
as  stunny  ground!  I  swan  tew  man,  if  that  hand  did  n't  feel 
like  a  bit  o'  gun-cotton  when  she  put  in  mine !  I  'm  afraid 
I  squoze  it  a  mite  too  many,  not  bein'  used  tew  such  hands ; 
fur  she  squinched,  and  looked  a  bit  hurt,  poor  child  ! " 

The  advent  of  a  Southerner  in  Yankee  land  aroused  the 
curious  all  around.  Horace  Stanhope's  beautiful  Southern 
wife  drew  many  inquisitive  hearts  to  Silas's  humble  home. 

Our  heroine  was  pained  to  see  no  young  faces  among  them 
all.  Even  the  children  had  a  hard,  ancient,  weary  look. 
And  then  their  conversation  was  startling  to  Southern  ears. 
It  was  of  washing  clothes,  haying,  selling  butter  and  cheese, 
and  the  sin  of  slavery,  and  Southern  chivalry. 

Bertha  bit  her  lip  with  suppressed  amusement,  and  veiled 
her  eyes  from  the  honest,  humble,  and  toil-hardened  natives. 
Then  she  sighed  more  deeply  for  her  own  dear  refined 
Southern  land. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

BERTHA'S  LIFE  IX  BERKSHIRE. 

UNCLE  EXOS"  was  the  boast  of  the  Stanhope  race  — 
an  elder  brother  of  Horace's  father,  and  worth  eighty 
thousand  dollars. 


BEAUTY.  233 

Bertha  had  heard  of  "Uncle  Enos"  until  her  curiosity 
was  alive  to  behold  that  ancient  and  distinguished  indi- 
vidual. She  hoped,  also,  to  see  something  of  Southern  style 
and  refinement  under  the  roof  of  one  of  his  means. 

The  mode  of  living  of  those  whose  acquaintance  she  had 
formed  in  the  old  Bay  State,  was  rather  beneath  that  of  the 
lowest  class  of  Carolina  backwoodsmen.  Bertha  longed  for 
something  of  a  different  type. 

Silas  was  a  "well-to-do  farmer,"  but  the  poorest  Southerner 
she  had  ever  known  was  his  superior  in  gentility,  both  in 
person  and  domicil.  She  liked  the  humble-minded  man 
for  his  warm  heart  and  evident  interest  in  the  young 
stranger,  but  there  was  not  a  home  air  about  his  personnel 
and  premises. 

They  were  going  to  "  Uncle  Enos's  "  to  spend  the  day  — 
a  distance  of  three  Yankee  miles;  which  means,  simply, 
twice  that  number,  taking  into  the  reckoning  the  ups  and 
downs  of  the  way.  You  may  travel  double  the  distance  on 
Southern  soil,  and  save  your  brain-pan  and  backbone  into 
the  bargain. 

Silas  brought  out  the  Jersey  wagon,  and  the  four  married 
Stanhopes  filled  it  to  surfeiting — including  the  baby  in 
Martha's  lap. 

"  Newt"  was  left  to  take  care  of  the  three  younger  ones 
and  the  cat,  with  instructions  "  tew  milk  the  ke-ows,  and 
give  the  pig  a  bit  o'  swosh,  if  they  did  n't  git  tew  hum  afore 
dark." 

"  Uncle  Enos's  "  house  was  a  two-story  frame,  set  upon  a 
hill,  with  a  narrow  yard  in  front  bounded  by  a  low  fence, 
and  no  flowers  or  flowering  shrubs  around.  The  dwelling 
had  thirsted  for  paint  many  years,  and  had  grown  dry  and 
withered  for  the  want.  It  reminded  Bertha  of  a  broken- 
down  Carolina  country  aristocrat. 

All  around  looked  lonely  and  sighing,  in  the  sadly  shim- 
20* 


234  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

mering  September  sunshine.  The  everlasting  mountains 
frowned  down  on  every  side  heavy  and  grim,  as  the  iron 
portals  of  a  State  penitentiary,  shutting  her  in  from  the 
sweet  hopes  of  sunnier  life  beyond  ! 

The  family  consisted  of  the  old  people  and  two  sons,  two 
hired  girls  and  one  man. 

"  Uncle  Enos  "  was  a  little,  wTithered-up,  weather-beaten 
man,  of  seventy  odd  years  ;  he  might  have  been  a  centena- 
rian from  appearance.  His  bright  blue  eyes  twinkled  like 
stars  in  December,  and  looked  quite  as  cold ;  but  his  heart 
wras  seemingly  as  warm  as  his  hand  was  hard.  He  was 
exceedingly  fond  of  "  fun  "  and  "  young  folks."  His  dress 
was  decent,  but  home-made.     He  had  shoes  on  his  feet ! 

"Aunt  Nancy  "  was  a  large,  fat,  blue-eyed,  dignified  old 
lady,  with  a  pleasant  smile  and  pleasing  address.  Bertha 
leaned  towards  her  at  first  sight.  There  was  more  refine- 
ment in  "Aunt  Nancy's"  mind  and  manners  than  our 
heroine  had  met  with  in  Massachusetts. 

The  old  lady  was  afflicted  with  lameness,  and  moved 
about  slowly  and  painfully ;  but  every  movement  was  dig- 
nified and  self-conscious.  Her  antecedents  were,  obviously, 
superior  to  her  surroundings.  She  was  a  native  of  Con- 
necticut. "  Uncle  Enos "  had  transplanted  her  from  an 
ancestral  conservatory  to  a  kitchen  -  garden.  In  inherent 
possessions  and  powers  she  rose  superior  to  the  drudgery  of 
every-day  life.  Her  individuality  was  plainly  perceptible 
—  it  had  not  been  absorbed  by  his.  She  commanded  the 
highest  respect  of  her  husband,  children,  and  friends. 
Bertha  loved  her. 

Jason,  the  elder  son,  was  a  small,  modest,  hard-working 
man  of  twenty-two,  indifferently  educated,  and  engaged  to 
be  married.  Jason  blushed  like  a  girl  at  the  bare  mention 
of  matrimony.  He  was  amiable  as  he  was  ignorant,  and 
timid  as  he  was  industrious. 


BEAUTY.  235 

Gideon,  or  "  Gid,"  as  he  was  invariably  termed  by  all 
but  his  mother,  was  a  six-footer,  and  well  filled  out ;  was 
inclined  to  be  literary,  but  his  orthography  was  excruci- 
ating. His  limited  education  vetoed  his  would-be  author- 
ship. His  letters  were  good  for  grief.  A  "blue-devil" 
would  fly  before  them  as  fast  as  raw  recruits  from  i  regular 
army.  But  Gid  inherited  his  mother's  nature,  and  would 
have  made  a  superior  man  with  proper  cultivation ;  but 
"  Uncle  Enos  "  bound  him  to  the  "  farm,"  and  dwarfed  his 
genius.  He  was  but  nineteen,  notwithstanding  his  mature 
proportions. 

Gid  had  a  bright  eye  for  beauty,  and  no  caution  to  cover 
his  honest  admiration  with ;  and  Horace  Stanhope's  watch- 
ful eyes  glittered  with  green  fire,  as  Gid  made  no  secret  of 
his  regard  for  Bertha. 

Horace  soon  found  his  uncle's  home  very  uncomfortable 
quarters ;  but  prudence  held  him  in  patient  bonds  a  while. 
He  was  dependent  upon  his  relatives,  and  must  submit  to 
the  exigencies  of  his  condition ;  but  Bertha  felt  the  torture 
he  endured.  He  could  not  suffer  her  to  rest  while  he  was 
in  pain. 

Horace  Stanhope  would  have  declined  his  uncle's  invita- 
tion to  visit  a  while  with  them,  had  he  been  indejoendent  in 
purse;  but  there  was  no  alternative,  and  he  glowed  a  mortal 
week  with  jealous  rage,  provoked  by  Gid's  innocent  admira- 
tion of,  and  boyish  attachment  to  "Cousin  Bertha." 

They  had  been  but  a  day  domiciled  at  "  Uncle  Enos's," 
when  Horace  entered  our  heroine's  chamber,  and  asserted, 
with  clouded  brow  and  low-pitched  tone : 

"  You  've  been  telling  Uncle  Enos  that  I  am  jealous  !  " 

Bertha  looked  up  in  astonishment. 

"/have?" 

"  Yes,  you  have  ;  and  you  dare  not  deny  it !  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Stanhope ;  I  have  never  spoken 


236         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

to  him  on  the  subject  —  I  have  too  much  self-respect ; "  her 
lip  curled. 

Horace  subsided  forthwith.  With  all  his  mean-minded- 
ness,  he  never  doubted  her  veracity.  He  never  looked  into 
those  clear,  soul-full  eyes,  and  declared,  seriously,  he  ques- 
tioned her  truth.  He  was  a  queer  compound  of  consistency 
and  meanness.  He  loved  her,  and  relied  upon  her  honor ; 
yet  he  was  jealous  of  her  love,  and  was  not  content  to  make 
himself  miserable  —  she  must  share  his  wretchedness.  He 
was  happy  when  he  could  torment  her  to  tears,  and  mis- 
erable when  she  was  apparently  content. 

Bertha  smiled,  aside,  at  the  bare  idea  of  her  becoming 
enamored  of  ignorant,  clownish,  but  good-natured  Gid ;  yet 
she  did  not  betray  her  feelings  in  seeming  or  words.  She 
did  not  inquire  why  he  had  suspected  her  of  exposing  his 
faults;  for  her  perceptions  were  sufficiently  acute  to  discover 
"Uncle  Enos's"  keen  eyes  had  detected  the  truth,  without 
the  aid  of  her  tongue,  and  that  a  remonstrance  from  the 
old  man  had  sent  Horace  up-stairs  rankling  with  spite.  She 
had  not  forgotten  his  solemn  promise  to  her,  the  day  she  left 
her  home,  to  follow  him  to  a  stranger  land;  but  she  did  not 
remind  him  of  it  then.  She  would  let  the  cloud  pass  over 
as  softly  as  it  might.  But  one  truth  was  incontestable: 
Horace  was  as  jealous  of  his  own  friends  as  he  was  of  hers. 

Horace  Stanhope  finally  came  to  an  open  rupture  with 
Gid,  who  dubbed  him  "  Green-Eyes,"  and  took  Bertha  to 
Pittsfield  to  board,  without  any  prospect  of  paying  the  bill. 
He  professed  to  be  in  daily  expectation  of  goods  from 
"  Cooley  &  Co.,"  and  affected  preparations  for  opening  a 
store  in  that  pleasant  town;  but  time  passed  away,  and  the 
goods  were  not  forthcoming;  and  Horace  took  his  wife  back 
to  New  York,  with  funds  borrowed  from  Silas,  and  paid  his 
bill  in  Pittsfield  through  the  same  source. 

"I  swan  tew  man!  "said  Silas  to   Martha,  shaking  his 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  237 

fist  furiously  at  an  imaginary  Horace, —  "I  swan  tow  man, 
if  that  clog's  worth  the  powder  it  'cl  take  tew  blow  'im  up ! 
I  would  n't  a-done  it,  by  hokey,  ef  it  had  n't  a-ben  for  her  — 
poor  child !" 

Bertha  did  not  cross  the  threshold  of  the  hotel,  during 
her  stay  in  Pittsfield,  until  she  left  it  for  NewT  York.  Her 
time  there  was  undisturbed  by  clouds  and  constant  drop- 
pings, for  she  formed  no  acquaintance  but  that  of  the  land- 
lady, and  a  private  table  was  laid  for  her  lord's  accommo- 
dation ;  and  Horace  was  at  rest,  relying  upon  his  brother  to 
liquidate  his  liabilities. 

It  was  early  morn  when  they  arrived  at  the  great  Babel. 
Bertha  looked  weary  and  care-worn.  She  was  tired  —  very 
tired  of  the  life  she  was  living,  and  yearned  for  a  quiet, 
peaceful  place  to  rest  her  frail  form  and  aching  heart. 

She  was  forced  to  walk  a  long,  weary  way  from  the  wharf 
to  Alonzo's,  for  Horace's  funds  were  expended,  and  the 
luxury  of  a  hack  was  denied. 

Alonzo  and  Hannah  welcomed  her  kindly,  and  the  poor, 
tired  heart  revived  as  a  feeling  of  home-warmth  came  over 
it  once  more. 

Horace  sat  down  in  his  brother's  home  in  ease  and  indo- 
lence, while  Alonzo  was  laboring  for  his  support,  until,  in 
extreme  disgust,  Bertha  secretly  informed  her  father  of  her 
shameful  and  revolting  situation,  and  expressed  a  desire  to 
return  home.  She  then  acquainted  Horace  of  her  act  and 
purpose.  He  was  struck  dumb  with  astonishment  and  wrath, 
a  moment.  Then  came  the  violent  storm,  succeeded  by 
the  gradual  lull,  and  finally  the  tearful  entreaties. 

Bertha  reiterated  her  unwillingness  to  being  dependent 
upon  her  brother-in-law,  and  bravely  declared  her  determi- 
n«i'.ion  to  submit  no  longer  to  so  humiliating  a  position. 

Bertha  evidently  rose  in  her  new  relative's  esteem  when 
The  state  of  affairs  was  revealed  by  repentant  Horace.  She 
overheard  Alonzo  remark  to  Hannah,  subsequently : 


238  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"  I  said  she  was  honorable.     I  wish  Horace  was !  " 

Horace  Stanhope  now  bestirred  himself  to  avert  the 
impending  calamity  of  losing  his  lovely  and  daring  wife. 
He  was  confounded  by  her  temerity.  He  had  thought  her 
wholly  in  his  power,  when,  lo  !  she  had  shown  herself  capa- 
ble of  more  energy  than  himself! 

"How  had  she  smuggled  that  letter  into  the  post-office?" 

"  Alonzo  had  taken  it  for  her,  without  being  aware  of  its 
contents,  or  of  Horace's  practice  of  reading  all  she  wrote." 

Stanhope  shut  his  teeth  hard  with  impotent  rage,  fie 
dared  not  come  to  a  rupture  with  Alonzo,  for  he  well  knew 
his  brother  would  defend  Bertha  against  him.  He  had 
playfully  kissed  her,  on  one  occasion,  in  the  presence  of 
Hannah  and  himself;  and  Horace  was  as  jealous  of  his  own 
brother  as  he  had  been  of  Gid. 

Bertha  was  lectured  in  secret  for  too  familiar  deport- 
ment towards  an  old  married  man !  —  and  Alonzo's  quick 
perceptions  soon  detected  the  gangrene  of  his  brother's  mind. 

Through  the  influence  of  his  brothers,  Horace  Stanhope 
again  obtained  goods  of  "Cooley  &  Co.,"  and  made  pre- 
parations for  commencing  business  on  Sixth  Avenue. 
Bertha  had  consented  to  remain  with  him,  if  she  could  do 
so  without  detriment  to  her  sense  of  honor. 

When  Stanhope  returned,  one  evening,  he  observed  a 
gentleman  bidding  adieu  to  Bertha,  with  more  familiarity 
than  was  agreeable  to  Green-Eyes. 

"  Who  was  that  ?  "  he  snapped  out. 

"  Pa's  cousin  —  Mr.  Averley." 

"  The  devil !     How  did  he  find  you  ?  " 

"  Pa  gave  him  my  address." 

"  Your  pa  'd  better  mind  his  own  business.  What  did 
the  fellow  want?" 

"  To  see  me." 

"  A  very  great  honor !     Is  that  all  ?  " 


239 

"  He  wished  to  aid  me  in  returning  home,  at  pa's  re- 
quest." 

"By !  I  won't  stand  this  much  longer  !     They  can't 

let  me  alone,  now  that  I  am  away  from  them.  You  are  my 
wife,  and  no  man  shall  take  you  from  me  by  force." 

"  But  I  can  go,  if  circumstances  render  it  advisable.  I 
told  you,  Mr.  Stanhope,  I  had  written  home  for  means  to 
relieve  me  from  a  humiliating  situation,  and  pa  has  only 
granted  my  request.  Let  your  wrath  fall  upon  ??ie,  and 
spare  your  abuse  of  the  innocent,  i"  can  bear  it.  I  have 
grown  callous  from  long  custom.  You  promised  me,  if  I 
would  trust  you  once  more,  I  should  never  repent  my  con- 
fidence, so  help  you  God !  You  said  if  I  were  not  content 
here,  you  would  return  me  to  my  home.  I  told  you  then 
you  would  forget  your  promise,  in  the  future,  as  you  had  in 
the  past.     Did  I  say  right,  Mr.  Stanhope  ?  " 

Horace  Stanhope  said  not  a  word,  as  he  walked  the  floor 
and  looked  at  the  firm  young  face  before  him,  with  a 
puzzled,  irresolute  expression.  Then  the  thought  of  her 
escape  from  La  Violet  Seminary  came  over  him.  She  was 
very  pliable  when  rightly  managed,  but  could  not  be  forced 
against  her  will  —  he  knew  that  —  without  bolts  and  bars ; 
and  then  the  witch  always  found  friends  everywhere,  to 
protect  her  from  her  foes.  Alonzo  and  Allyn  would  both 
sustain  her ;  and  then  there  was  that  Averley  relative  just 
popped  up  —  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  influential  men 
in  the  city  of  New  York.  Stanhope  knew  him  well  by 
reputation ;  and  he  knew,  also,  he  would  not  venture  to  beat 
his  featherless  wings  against  that  rock.  He  had  kept  her  in 
ignorance  of  her  city  friends,  but  her  father  had  foiled  him. 

At  length  he  said,  mournfully,  mastering  his  ire : 

"  And  so  you  are  going  home,  Bertha  ?  " 

'*  No,  Horace ;  I  told  you  I  would  remain,  if  we  could 
live  independently.     I  will  not  leave  you  so  long  as  we  can 


240 

live  together  in  peace  and  honor.  But  I  could  not  consent 
to  be  a  burden  to  your  friends." 

Horace  Stanhope  was  tender  and  true  many  days  after 
this  great  relief  from  imminent  danger. 

He  took  her  to  a  little  room  in  the  rear  of  his  store,  and 
kept  her  hidden  from  the  world  ;  passing  most  of  his  un- 
employed time  with  the  little  recluse,  and  watching  for  cus- 
tomers through  a  glass  door  that  intervened. 

Mr.  Averley  informed  the  city  relatives  of  Mr.  Belmont 
of  his  daughter's  locality;  and  the  bitter  cold  winter  passed 
more  pleasantly  than  our  herpine  had  anticipated. 

But  Bertha  did  enter  a  church  but  twice  during  her 
six  months'  residence  in  the  city.  She  was  at  his  mercy 
there,  for  she  dared  not  venture  alone,  and  shrank  from  ex- 
posing him  to  her  friends. 

Mr.  Belmont,  finding  his  daughter  would  not  return  to 
him,  made  preparations  to  dispose  of  his  property  at  a 
sacrifice,  and  go  to  her.  Mrs.  Belmont's  health  was  failing 
fast,  and  Claude  urged  the  exchange.  But  ere  the  time  of 
departure  arrived,  Mr.  Belmont  received  a  line  from  .Bertha, 
which  ran:  "Don't  come.     lam  going  home." 

And  impatiently  she  waited  an  explanation. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 


HORACE     STANHOPE'S     THIRD     FAILURE.  —  BERTHA 
RESOLVES   AND    EXECUTES. 

HORACE  STANHOPE  had  been  doing  business  for 
Cooley  &  Co.  but  four  months,  when  there  was  a 
sudden  stop  in  the  mercantile  machinery.  Something  was 
evidently  wrong,  but  Bertha  was  not  permitted  to  know  the 


211 

why  and  wherefore.     She  knew  he  had  sold  a  great  many 
goods,  and  affairs  looked  prosperous. 

She  was  surprised,  one  day,  by  the  entrance  of  Horace 
into  her  hermitage,  followed  by  two  gentlemen.  Mr.  Cooley, 
she  recognized ;  the  stranger  was  introduced  as  Mr.  Har- 
man.  This,  then,  was  the  firm  with  whom  Horace  had  been 
dealing. 

Bertha's  heart  sank  beneath  a  heavy  presentiment  of  evil 
as  she  looked  into  Horace's  eyes.  As  Colonel  Wilmer  had 
once  said,  there  was  a  "sneaking,  snaky  look  about  him" 
that  chilled  her.  He  had  the  appearance  of  one  who  had 
been  caught  in  some  dishonest  act,  and  was  trying  to  wriggle 
out  of  the  net. 

Bertha  sat  quietly  and  listened  attentively.  Messrs. 
Cooley  &  Co.  were  dissatisfied  with  the  phase  of  affairs, 
and  Stanhope's  business  must  be  brought  to  a  sudden  ter- 
mination. Bertha  learned  that  much,  but  the  groundwork 
of  the  cause  of  their  dissatisfaction  was  couched  in  too  ob- 
scure language  for  her  comprehension.  Horace  evidently 
understood  it,  from  the  hue  of  his  countenance;  he  was 
livid— whether  from  rage  or  shame,  Bertha  could  not  decide. 
He  never  blushed,  whatever  his  feelings  might  be ;  anger  or 
confusion  turned  him  deathly  white. 

The  "  firm  "  was  exceedingly  gentlemanly,  and  kind  as 
circumstances  would  justify,  but  they  could  no  longer  supply 
him  with  goods  upon  such  terms  as  he  had  heretofore  been 
receiving  them. 

Here  then  was  another  cheat !  If  Cooley  and  Co.  had 
been  paid  promptly,  they  would  not  have  brought  matters 
to  a  sudden  close.  Stanhope,  evidently,  was  indebted  for 
the  goods  sold,  and  what  had  he  done  with  the  proceeds  ? 
There  was  another  Belmont  affair  over  again! 

Bertha  knew  the  profits  had  not  been  expended  for  her. 
His  brothers,  Alonzo  and  Allyn,  had  given  her  more  than 
21  A 


242  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

Horace  had,  since  she  came  to  the  city.  She  had  even  been 
compelled  to  sleep  on  a  straw  mat  during  the  entire  bitter 
cold  winter,  to  save  the  expense  of  feathers ;  but  she  had 
not  complained  nor  hinted  of  her  comfortable  home-quar- 
ters far  away.  Her  board  was  very  reasonable,  with  an 
honest,  humble  Irish  family  beneath  the  same  roof. 

And  yet,  with  all  the  economy  they  had  practised  and 
his  rapid  sales,  he  was  a  defaulter  to  the  firm  —  to  what 
amount  she  never  knew. 

Stanhope  led  the  way  from  the  room,  saw  the  firm  safely 
out,  and  came  back  in  a  passion. 

"  What  was  that  fellow  doing  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  black 
brow. 

"  Which  one,  and  when  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  try  to  deceive  me !     I  saw  it  all." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  deceive  you,  Mr.  Stanhope.  What  did 
you  see  ?  " 

"  I  saw  that  rascal  Harman  kiss  his  hand  to  you  as  he 
left!" 

"  Is  there  any  harm  in  that  ?  And  if  there  is,  am  I  re- 
sponsible for  it  ?  " 

"I  should  think  there  was  harm  —  a  married  man  kissing 
his  hand  to  a  married  woman !  If  you  'd  conducted  pro- 
perly, he  would  not  have  taken  the  liberty  —  the  knave !  " 

"  You  can  judge  of  the  propriety  of  my  conduct ;  you 
were  present  during  their  stay.  I  did  not  utter  a  dozen 
words  while  they  remained,  and  I  think  I  looked  up  but 
twice.  I  should  have  thought  it  rude  in  an  utter  stranger, 
but  for  the  evident  pity  and  respect  that  beamed  in  his 
eyes.  I  know  but  little,  as  yet,  of  your  Northern  style,  and 
I  meant  to  ask  you  if  it  was  a  common  custom  among 
Yankees." 

"  Yes,  it 's  very  likely  I  should  have  heard  of  it,  if  I 
had  n't  seen  the  insult  from  the  villain  !  " 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  243 

"  I  don't  consider  it  an  insult,  Mr.  Stanhope ;  he  is  too 
gentlemanly  to  offer  one." 

"  Certainly  !  of  course  you  like  it !  You  've  got  a  new 
lover  at  first  sight !  " 

"  If  I  have,  it 's  no  fault  of  mine.  If  it 's  an  insult,  I  am 
powerless  to  resent  it.  I  have  had  to  submit  to  a  great 
many  unpleasant  things  since  I  left  my  home.  I  said  it 
would  be  so,  but  you  would  not  leave  me  in  peace.  If  you 
are  offended  by  people's  regard  for  me,  you  have  only  your- 
self to  censure.  You  can  very  speedily  rid  yourself  of  the 
annoyance  by  sending  me  home." 

That  softened  him.  His  temper  cooled,  and  he  wilted 
down  under  the  suggestion.  Wrath  blinded  his  reason  when 
jealousy  was  aroused,  and  led  him  to  the  extent  of  abusing 
her  for  others'  offences,  until  a  hint  of  home  subdued  his 
rage. 

Had  Horace  Stanhope  possessed  the  nerve,  he  would  have 
murdered  her  in  a  moment  of  jealous  frenzy ;  but  his  love 
of  life  was  too  strong,  and  his  cowardice  too  great,  for  even 
seething  passion  to  render  him  insensible  of  danger.  Ber- 
tha had  received  so  many  proofs  of  his  pusillanimity,  that 
she  had  ceased  to  feel  any  apprehension  relative  to  her  per- 
sonal safety. 

Horace  Stanhope  changed  his  tone  and  the  subject  as  he 
cooled  off. 

"  And  now  the  rascals  have  thrown  me  out  of  business, 
and  we  '11  have  to  go  back  to  Alonzo's." 

"  As  poor  as  we  left,"  she  said,  dryly. 

"Yes,  and  worse!  I  can't  pay  the  rent,  now  that  the 
villains  have  closed  me  up,  to  save  the  world !  I  could 
have  done  well  if  they'd  left  me  alone;  I  was  just  getting 
a  good  start  and  plenty  of  custom." 

Bertha  wondered  at  the  man's  effrontery.  He  was  throw- 
ing the  fault  from  his  own  shoulders  upon  theirs,  as  he  had 


244  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

done  upon  her  father,  and  that,  too,  before  her  wide-awake 
eyes ! 

They  went  back  to  Alonzo's  "  on  the  sly,"  and  the  pro- 
prietor of  Horace  Stanhope's  mercantile  establishment  never 
saw  his  rent-dues !  Mrs.  James,  the  landlady,  indemnified 
herself  from  the  store,  or  she  would  have  shared  the  same 
fate  as  their  former  landlady  and  the  landlord. 

Bertha  was  entirely  broken  down  in  spirit.  Horace  Stan- 
hope mauifested  no  concern,  saving  that  of  being  discovered 
by  his  creditors.  He  kept  close  to  the  premises,  and  lived 
upon  his  brother's  bounty  until  Bertha  wrote  her  father: 

"  Don't  come.     I  am  going  home." 

Horace  Stanhope  was  urging  her  to  go  with  him  farther 
North  into  the  country,  w7hen  she  wrote  her  friends  in  des- 
peration.    She  said,  firmly : 

"  I  will  never  go  farther  away  from  home  than  I  now  am, 
Mr.  Stanhope.     I  have  suffered  enough  here." 

He  fretted  and  fumed,  snufiled  and  sulked  ;  but  Bertha's 
weakness  was  all  gone  —  he  pleaded  in  vain. 

Horace  Stanhope  was  startled,  one  day,  to  see  the  head 
clerk  of  Cooley  &  Co.,  accompanied  by  other  fellow-associ- 
ates, enter  his  brother's  home  and  inquire  for  Mrs.  Horace 
Stanhope.  He  did  not  appear  before  them,  but  awaited 
their  departure  in  an  agony  of  suspense.  They  looked 
pleased  and  tormentingly  polite  when  they  left  the  parlor. 
Green-Eyes  saw  it  all  in  secret. 

"  What's  going  on  now?"  he  asked,  w7ith  half  frightened 
eyes. 

"  Pa  has  sent  me  funds  to  take  me  home.  I  am  going 
home  to-morrow,  Mr.  Stanhope.  Messrs.  Cooley  &  Co.  are 
pa's  agents  in  the  matter." 

"  The  hell  they  are!  How  did  they  know  where  to  find 
you  ?  " 

"  They  have  my  address." 


THE    BEAUTY.  245 

"  By !     And  so  you  have  betrayed  me  to  them  !  " 

"  I  was  not  aware  of  a  desire  on  your  part  to  elude  them. 
I  thought  —  " 

"  You  thought !  You  had  no  business  to  think  without 
consulting  me  !  " 

"  I  take  the  liberty  of  thinking  independently,  notwith- 
standing your  lordship.     I  am  a  Southerner,  Mr.  Stanhope." 

He  thought  she  was,  from  the  fire  in  her  face.  It  burnt  him. 

Bertha  knew  his  weak  points,  and  assailed  him  there, 
during  his  fits  of  insane  passion.  She  never  failed  to  bring 
him  down  with  a  fiery  shot.  She  found  the  more  she  yielded 
the  more  he  would  impose ;  and  she  was  forced,  in  self-de- 
fence, finally  to  turn  upon  him  her  spirit-battery,  to  keep 
him  at  bay. 

Horace  Stanhope  quailed  before  the  flash  of  her  eye,  and 
his  fury  oozed  away.  He  fell  across  the  bed  and  sobbed 
like  a  boy;  reproaching  her,  in  plaintive  tones,  for  her 
cruelty  in  betraying  him,  and  her  contemplated  desertion 
of  one  who  loved  her  more  than  his  own  life. 

But  Bertha  wTas  not  to  be  turned  from  her  purpose  this 
time.  She  had  seen  the  end  of  the  test-line,  and  there  was 
no  loop  beyond  to  hang  a  hope  upon.  She  was  going  home. 
She  had  strength  enough  to  sustain,  and  friends  sufficient  to 
shield  her.     And  she  went. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

BERTHA   ABANDONS   A   JEALOUS   TYRANT. 

IT  was  a  bright  blue  morn   in   February,  when   Bertha 
bade  adieu  to  the  great  sin-laden  city  of  New  York, 
where  so  many  wretched  days  and  months  of  her  young  life 
21  * 


246         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

had  been  passed,  and  turned  her  sad  face  Southward.  She 
was  sad  even  to  tears,  for  her  hopes  lay  in  ruins.  There 
was  no  longer  a  star  in  the  dim  horizon  of  her  heart  to  lead 
her  hopefully  in  the  future.  She  was  on  the  wide  ocean  of 
life,  drifting  without  a  helm. 

Horace  was  broken  down  by  her  firmness,  but  powerless 
to  prevent  her  desertion  ;  and  his  grief-full  face  filled  her 
with  sorrow,  notwithstanding  the  past,  and  want  of  confi- 
dence for  the  future. 

He  had  put  on  his  most  penitent  seeming,  to  turn  her 
from  her  purpose ;  but  Bertha  knew  how  long  it  would  last 
if  she  relented,  and  what  would  come  after.  She  steeled 
her  heart,  and  went  firmly  forward. 

Had  Horace  Stanhope  been  brave  and  manly,  he  might 
have  led  her  to  the  end  of  the  world ;  but  she  had  tested 
him  thoroughly,  and  could  trust  him  no  longer,  away  from 
her  friends.  They  had  suffered  enough  in  the  past,  and  she 
would  no  longer  punish  them  and  herself  for  one  so  worth- 
less. 

Bertha  went  like  a  stoic,  but  her  heart  ached  for  the 
unhappiness  she  was  leaving,  in  one  who  had  wrought  it  by 
his  own  unworthiness. 

"  Look,  Mrs.  Stanhope,"  said  the  good  old  man  to  whose 
care  her  friends  had  confided  her. 

Bertha  turned  her  eyes  in  the  direction  indicated,  and  far 
away  in  the  blue  distance  fluttered  a  white  signal.  Horace 
Stanhope  had  followed  the  steamer  that  bore  away  his  long- 
suffering  wife,  to  the  extremest  point,  and  waved  her  fare- 
well from  the  Battery. 

Bertha  answered  it,  and  the  white  handkerchief  floated  in 
the  morning  breeze  until  distance  shut  it  from  her  sight. 
Then  she  went  down  to  her  state-room,  and  her  full  heart 
overflowed  in  tears,  until  a  swift  memory  came  and  dried 
them  up  like  summer  drought.     If  she  were  in  his  power, 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         247 

how  would  he  exercise  it  for  her  imhappiness.  How  had  he 
repaid  her  trust  and  sacrifice  for  his  sake.  How  dishonest 
he  had  proven  himself  toward  those  who  had  befriended 
him  in  his  extremity.  There  was  no  gratitude,  indepen- 
dence, or  integrity  in  him.  He  was  a  jealous  tyrant,  content 
to  be  a  burden  to  his  relatives ! 

Bertha  Belmont  "  despised  meanness  ;  "  and  reflection 
upon  the  true  character  of  Horace  Stanhope,  of  which  she 
possessed  a  thorough  knowledge,  sent  her  back  to  the  deck 
with  a  feeling  of  freedom  in  her  young  heart  that  had  long 
been  a  stranger  to  her  breast.  Like  a  long-imprisoned  bird 
just  escaped  from  its  cruel  captor,  she  shook  her  glad  spirit 
wings,  and  mounted  upward  from  her  late  tormentor. 

Bertha  had  vowed,  solemnly,  in  her  secret  heart,  when 
she  firmly  resolved  to  leave  her  worthless  husband  to  his 
fate,  that  she  would  never  return  to  him  until  he  had  proven 
himself  worthy  of  respect  and  confidence.  But  Horace  Stan- 
hope was  ignorant  of  that  vow,  and  trusted  to  time  and  absence 
to  win  her  back,  as  subsequent  events  clearly  demonstrated. 
But  our  heroine  had  drank  of  the  cup  he  prepared,  and 
declined  to  drain  it  to  the  dregs,  until  it  was  sweetened 
with  the  "repentance  that  needeth  not* to  be  repented  of." 

God  tempered  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,  for  the  great 
ocean  lay,  like  a  lion,  asleep ;  and  not  a  growl  or  threaten- 
ing aspect  disturbed  the  equanimity  of  our  heroine,  as  the 
gallant  bark  that  bore  her  to  her  waiting  friends,  steamed 
through  the  seething  waters. 

Bertha  felt  grateful  to  Him  who  rules  the  wTaves,  when 
the  old  captain  said  he  "  had  never  made  so  quick  and 
pleasant  a  time  in  many  a  year  —  shiver  his  timbers  !  " 

There  was  evidently  no  Jonah  aboard  of  that  ship  ! 

Old  Virginia !  Bertha's  thin  face  brightened  when  she 
opened  her  eyes,  one  morning,  and  beheld  the  sacred  soil  of 
the  Mother  of  Presidents.     Broad,  beautiful,  sunny  lands, 


248 

sweeping  far  away  as  eye  could  reach.  How  unlike  the 
rocky  hollows,  hedged  in  by  frowning  granite  hills,  with  a 
patch  of  wintry  sky  above  and  a  feeling  of  frost  beneath! 

Bertha  clasped  her  small  hands,  and  thanked  God  that 
the  sweet,  sunny  South  was  her  home. 

Majestic  Potomac  !  How  she  loved  its  blue  waters  that 
flowed  from  a  Southern  fountain.  The  skies  looked  bluer 
and  softer,  and  unresurrected  Nature  fairer,  in  a  Southern 
atmosphere.  Silent,  solemn,  beautiful  Mount  Vernon  lands! 
rising  abruptly  and  greenly  from  the  river's  rim,  and  sweep- 
ing back  and  far  beyond  the  ancient  roof  that  sheltered  the 
venerable  head  of  the  Pater  Patrie  f 

Grand  old  Fort  Washington !  —  smiling  down  from  its 
emerald  height  as  innocently  as  though  no  iron  instruments 
of  death  lay  hidden  behind  its  heavy,  deceitful  walls ! 

On,  through  the  white  foam  and  hissing  waters ;  on  through 
the  singing  breezes  and  purpling  twilight;  and  our  heroine, 
straining  her  brown  eyes  through  the  evening  mist,  to  catch 
the  first  glimpse  of  the  strange  city  where  her  loved  ones 
looked  and  longed  for  her  coming,  was  "  safe  at  home !  " 

Home  —  but  not  beneath  the  loved  roof  of  her  childhood ! 
Home  —  but  not  among  the  familiar  faces  that  smiled  upon 
her  six  long,  weary,  grief-laden  months  ago  !  Home  —  but 
not  with  the  blue,  sunny  skies  of  her  native  State  shining 
over  her ! 

And  yet  it  was  home  to  our  heart-sick  heroine,  for  her 
foot  touched  Southern  soil,  and  her  best-loved  ones  and  most 
faithful  were  there.  Here  she  could  rest  her  fading  form 
and  fainting  spirit,  undisturbed  by  jealous  clouds  and  re- 
pentant showers. 

Here  she  would  not  be  pulled  continually  from  pillow  to 
post  by  a  dishonest  debtor,  creeping  under  cover  of  dark- 
ness from  his  creditors,  without  a  tinge  of  shame  upon  his 
brazen  cheek,  —  and  sit  down  in   humiliating  dependence 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  249 

beneath  the  roof  of  those  upon  whom  she  had  no  claim  but 
that  which  humanity  and,  worst  of  all,  charity  recognizes. 

Mr.  Belmont  had  disposed  of  most  of  his  real  estate  in 
Carolina  previous  to  the  reception  of  Bertha's  letter  com- 
municating her  design  to  abandon  Horace  Stanhope.  Mrs. 
Belmont's  health  was  declining,  and  Claude,  just  verging 
upon  manhood,  longed  for  change  of  scene. 

They  came  to  the  Old  Dominion,  and  settled  down  in  a 
pleasant,  quiet  home,  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
our  long  absent  and  ocean-rocked  heroine. 

But  few  perfectly  happy  moments  are  realized  by  a  human 
heart  in  a  life-time ;  and  Bertha  experienced  one  of  the  few 
when  Mr.  Belmont  and  Claude  entered  the  cabin  and  caught 
her  up  in  their  arms. 

The  kind-hearted  captain  lingered  behind  to  witness  the 
meeting,  and  turned  away  with  a  bright  smile  and  quick 
dash  of  his  honest  hand  across  his  eyes. 

Bertha's  wet  eyes  widened  with  astonishment  as  she 
looked  upon  Claude.  The  slender  boyish  form  had  grown 
to  manhood  in  half  a  year ;  and  Bertha's  small  head  was 
forced  to  bend  far  backward  to  get  a  good  look  at  his 
laughing  face  as  it  towered  high  above  her. 

Claude  said  he  "had  stretched  himself  to  that  length, 
reaching  after  her  across  such  wide  water  and  high  hills." 

Bertha  said,  in  her  home  that  night,  with  tender  arms 
and  glad  faces  around  her : 

"  I  '11  never  leave  you  again,  mamma.  I  've  seen  the  end 
of  hope  for  Horace ;  and  now  I  '11  die  at  home." 

"Not  yet!"  sang  out  Claude,  starting  up,  and  shuffling 
over  the  carpet  with  old-time  boyishness,  —  "can't  afford  it 
just  yet,  sis !  You  belong  to  us  now,  and,  dog  me,  if  any- 
body else  of  the  human  stripe  shall  ever  have  you  while 
'bub  "s  around  !" 

Uncle   Ben  poked  his  black,  woolly  head  in  from   the 


250 

kitchen,  and  looked  on  in  solemn  silence  awhile  at  Claude's 
Terpsichorean  performance.     Then  he  said,  soberly  : 

"  Why  don't  ye  mix  it,  young  mass'r?  You  makes  one 
foot  do  it  all  —  he-a,  he-a  !  " 

Claude  dropped  down  in  a  chair  before  this  critical  fire, 
and  drew  both  feet  under  him,  as  though  ashamed  of  their 
ignorance ;  and  Uncle  Ben's  head  disappeared  suddenly, 
but  his  humorous  mouth  was  heard  in  the  distance. 

Alone  in  her  quiet  chamber,  its  sweet  silence  unbroken 
by  Horace  Stanhope's  complainings,  reproaches,  and  itera- 
tions of  affection  unreturned,  Bertha  looked  down  the  long 
lane  of  departed  years,  onward  through  the  fate-shadowed 
future. 

She  had  tried  to  do  her  duty  as  a  wife,  but  all  her 
efforts  and  sacrifices  had  been  vain,  and  wholly  unappre- 
ciated by  him  for  whom  they  were  made.  She  was  at  home 
once  more,  and  she  would  never  desert  it  again  for  one  so 
undeserving  of  trust  and  respect.  She  had  but  little  hope 
of  his  reformation,  and  a  lonely,  isolated  life  was  before 
her.  No  hope  of  forming  new  ties,  to  brighten  the  pathway 
to  another  state  of  existence ;  but  year  after  year  to  walk 
that  pathway  alone  —  shut  out  by  a  fatal  vow  from  the 
nearest  and  dearest  relationship  known  to  mortals ! 

And  what  would  the  world  say  ?  The  world  —  cold,  un- 
feeling, heartless  —  it  ever  laid  the  burden  upon  the  weak, 
and  let  the  strong  go  free.  Man  might  sin  grievously,  and 
be  countenanced  by  the  world;  but  woman  must  suffer  for 
ever  an  apparent  wrong  ! 

How  unevenly  the  scales  of  Justice  are  balanced  in  this 
wicked  world ! 

But  Bertha's  conscience  was  at  rest ;  and  thoughts  of 
what  the  world  might  whisper,  of  her  living  apart  from  her 
husband,  did  not  trouble  her  spirit.  She  resolved  to  go 
firmly  forward,  in  the  straight  and  narrow  way  of  duty  to 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  251 

those  who  loved  her  most,  and  obedience  to  her  own  con- 
victions of  right,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God. 

But  our  heroine  soon  found  the  world  was  disposed  to  be 
more  kind  and  favorable  to  her  than  it  had  shown  itself  to 
others  in  a  similar  situation.  Her  beauty  and  retiring 
nature  softened  its  stony  heart,  and  let  its  latent  warmth, 
and  wooing  smiles,  leak  through  its  admiring  eyes.  It 
came  around  her  with  new  songs  of  love ;  but  Bertha  sadly 
smiled,  and  informed  them  of  the  "insuperable  barrier  to  the 
realization  of  their  hopes." 

They  told  her  she  might  be  free  by  "due  process  of  law," 
and  prayed  her  to  suffer  them  to  hope  for  a  favorable 
answer  in  the  future ;  but  Bertha's  heart  was  untouched, 
and  she  gently  forbade  the.  indulgence  of  a  delusive  dream 
for  days  to  come. 

Then  the  face  came  up  from  the  South,  and  looked  in  at 
her ;  and  she  smiled.  But  the  smile  soon  died  away,  and 
left  her  brown  eyes  wTeary  and  wandering. 

"  A  letter  from  Green-Eyes !  "  and  Claude '  held  it  up 
before  her,  with  a  turn-up-nose  expression. 

"  What  news  from  afar  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Belmont,  as  he 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and  spit  upon  the  carpet 
in  aiming  at  the  grate. 

"Horace  has  left  New  York  city,  and  is  cashier  of  a 
Bank  in  Buffalo." 

"Well,  I  pity  that  Bank!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Belmont, 
dryly. 

"  Me  too,  Katy,"  said  Claude,  putting  one  finger  on  the 
end  of  his  nose. 

"Don't  you?"  continued  Mr.  Belmont,  looking  over  his 
spectacles  at  silent  Bertha. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  won't  prosper,  under  the  circumstances, 
unless  — " 


252  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

"  Prosper !  hang  me  if  I  don't  believe  it  '11  burst  up  in  a 
week!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Belmont,  spitting  furiously  at  the 
grate,  and  hitting  the  fender. 

"  Getting  rich  rapidly,  and  trying  to  coax  you  back  to 
share  his  wealth  with  him,  eh  ?  "  inquired  the  old  father, 
facetiously. 

Bertha  laid  the  letter  in  his  hand,  and  went  up  to  her 
chamber.     Mr.  Belmont  grunted,  indignantly,  as  he  read. 

"  Just  as  I  expected.  The  rascal  holds  up  a  brilliant 
light  and  glittering  lure ;  but  he  won't  catch  Bertha  in  a 
hurry,  I  '11  wager.  That  child 's  got  enough  of  the  rogue,  I 
think.  Well,  I  would  n't  like  to  stand  in  the  fellow's  shoes 
that  owns  the  most  stock  in  that  Bank,"  he  said,  soberly,  as 
he  pulled  off  his  specks,  and  fed  his  mouth  with  "  honey- 
dew  "  from  his  vest-pocket. 

*'  Ain't  it  astonishing,"  he  broke  forth,  after  chewing  and 
musing  a  while,  "  how  that  fellow  can  talk,  after  acting  dog- 
mean  for  two  years  ?  Why,  a  stranger  would  think,  from 
that  loving  epistle,  he  was  the  worst-used  innocent  that  ever 
fell  among  thieves,  and  lost  all  but  his  honor  and  deathless 
devotion !  Why,  even  his  brother  don't  respect  him.  What 
a  letter  that  was  from  Alonzo,  since  Bertha  came  back ! 
One  can  see  he  pities  and  esteems  her,  which  says  plaguey 
little  for  his  brother.  And  now,  after  all  she  knows  of  the 
rascal,  he's  just  ninny  enough  to  think  he  can  coax  her 
back  wTith  chaff!  Well,  he  need  n't  try  that  on,  to  my  mind, 
for  Bertha 's  too  old  a  bird,  in  suffering  for  his  sins,  to  be 
caught  again  with  anything  but  good  bait  —  I  '11  wager." 

Bertha  was  musing,  in  her  chamber,  with  her  round  chin 
resting  upon  her  small  hand,  and  her  introverted  eyes 
turned  towards  her  childhood's  home.  Bertha  loved  the 
south  window,  but  her  thoughts  were  not  there  then.  She 
was  thinking  of  the  letter  her  father  was  commenting  upon. 
She   wondered    if  Horace  Stanhope  fancied   she  could  be 


253 

deceived  again?  She  marvelled  at  the  tone  of  the  missive, 
as  though  he  could  annihilate  her  memory  at  will,  and  force 
her  to  believe  a  falsehood.  He  might  do  well  in  Buffalo, 
as  he  might  have  done  in  Williamsville  and  New  York 
city,  but  she  doubted  seriously  if  he  remained  there  long, 
and  did  not  leave  it  poorer  than  he  went. 

No  penniless  young  man  had  ever  been  favored  with 
better  opportunities  for  accumulating  wealth  and  rendering 
himself  influential  and  honored  by  his  fellows  than  Horace 
Stanhope ;  and  yet  he  had  deceived  and  injured  his  best 
friends  by  his  dishonesty,  and  brought  wretchedness  upon 
his  own  head  by  his  worthlessness. 

And  now  he  evidently  thought  to  entrap  her  again  by 
love- words  and  affected  innocence.  If  she  were  with  him 
then,  what  would  her  fate  be  ?  Stealing  away  from  his 
employer  in  darkness,  or  visiting  him  in  prison  —  left  alone 
and  desolate  among  utter  strangers !  Bertha  shuddered  at 
the  thought. 

Had  he  been  honest,  his  poverty  would  not  have  driven 
her  from  him.  Had  he  been  honorable,  she  would  have 
clung  to  him  through  all  time.  It  is  true  she  did  not  love 
him  when  they  married,  but  there  was  a  strange  warmth 
and  leaning  in  the  wife's  heart  toward  the  husband,  that  the 
affianced  had  not  felt  for  the  lover.  He  might  have  won 
her  whole  heart  by  manly  forbearance  and  kindness ;  and  the 
face,  that  was  but  a  romance  of  early  girlhood,  might  have 
been  hidden  from  her  sight  forever  behind  the  dearer  image 
of  his  own  life. 

It  was  only  in  hours  of  disappointment  and  remorse  for 
having  married  one  so  unworthy,  that  the  face  looked  up, 
through  the  long  years,  and  reproached  her.  Were  she  with 
him  now,  she  would  be  but  a  burden.  Could  she  have  aided 
him,  in  New  York  city,  in  honorable  efforts  for  a  livelihood, 
she  would  not  have  deserted  him.    Though  accustomed  to  ease 


254  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

and  every  indulgence  at  home,  it  would  have  been  a  satis- 
faction to  her  spirit  of  independence  to  assist  him  in  his 
business ;  but  Horace  Stanhope's  green  life  would  not  suffer 
her  to  appear  before  his  customers. 

Bertha  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief  as  she  felt  her  freedom 
from  such  thraldom  as  she  had  endured  from  Horace  Stan- 
hope, and  she  felt  no  desire  to  repeat  the  experience  of  the 
past  two  years.  She  only  hoped  he  would  not  fall  into 
deeper  disgrace  from  his  present  situation  in  the  Buffalo 
Bank. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

MR.    REDMOND   SUSPECTS   BERTHA^   SECRET. 

OMY !  Ome!"  and  Edalia  Eldon  sprang  into  the  office 
and  danced  around  her  husband  and  uncle,  flourishing 
a  letter  as  she  went. 

"  What  the  deuce  ails  the  girl ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Red- 
mond, looking  after  her,  with  his  head  in  a  whirl  occasioned 
by  her  rapid  movements.     "  Out  with  it,  Ed." 

'"Bertha  the  Beauty'  has  abandoned  that  rascal  Stan- 
hope for  good  and  all,  and  is  safely  sheltered  in  the  nest- 
home  in  Alexandria." 

She  dropped  upon  "Walter's  lap,  and  hugged  him  around 
the  neck  until  he  affected  strangulation,  and  opened  his 
mouth,  gasping  for  breath,  to  the  young  wife's  great  amuse- 
ment. 

"For  good  and  all!"  growled  Mr.  Redmond.  "That 
means,  until  he  comes  around  her  whining  again,  with  new 
protestations  of  penitence  for  past  villany  and  promises  of 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  255 

better  behavior  in  future.  He  '11  cheat  her  back  again,  I  '11 
bet  two  chincapins  —  by  Jupiter !  " 

"  No.  Bertha  '11  never  leave  her  home  again  for  any- 
such  rascal.  She  's  run  the  full  length  of  the  test-line,  and 
now,  if  he  gets  her,  he  '11  have  to  '  put  off  the  old  man  with 
his  deeds,'  and  furnish  good  proof  of  his  honesty.  I  know 
Bertha ;  she  won't  trust  him  again  until  he 's  trustworthy. 
You  may  bet  all  your  chincapins  on  that,  uncle." 

"  Well,  I  hope  so,  for  he 's  the  most  worthless  scamp  that 
ever  owned  a  wife  —  by  Jupiter  !  If  she  'd  deserted  him 
twelve  months  ago,  it  would  have  been  better  for  her  and 
her  family,  a  dog  sight !  He 's  broke  Belmont  up  bodily, 
for  he  sold  his  property  for  just  nothing,  to  go  to  her;  and 
now  it  can't  be  bought  for  double  the  amount  that  Mezer 
gave  for  it.  I  know  that,  for  I  tried  it  on,  last  court.  It 's 
about  the  finest  location  in  town  ;  and  if  Belmont  had  n't 
been  crazy  about  his  daughter,  he  never  would  have  sold  the 
house  wThere  his  children  were  born  —  or,  more  properly 
speaking,  given  it  away  —  for  it's  little  more  than  that. 
Mezer  made  a  great  bargain  there,  and  chuckles  over  it 
now.  If  I  'd  known  the  old  man's  intention,  I  would 
have  saved  him  such  a  sacrifice.  But  some  men's  soul  all 
lies  in  their  pocket,  both  north  and  south  of  Mason  and 
Dixon's." 

"  Poor  Bertha  grieves  over  the  loss  of  '  the  house  where  I 
was  born,'  and  if  she'd  been  aware  of  her  father's  design, 
he  never  would  have  sold  it.  But  Mr.  Belmont  rented  it 
eleven  years,  you  know  —  during  their  residence  in  the  low 
brown  house  with  the  long  piazza  —  and  had  it  so  badly 
abused  by  tenants,  he  concluded  it  would  be  about  the 
cheapest  way  to  sell,  especially  as  he  expected  never  to  re- 
turn to  Carolina.  I  'm  sure,  from  the  tone  of  this  letter, 
Bertha  would  be  happier  in  her  old  home,  though  she  says 
nothing  detrimental  to  her  present  one.     Her  description  of 


256 

it  is  quite  poetic.  I  shouldn't  wonder  a  bit  if  Bertha 
turned  authoress  now,  uncle." 

"  Why  so,  chatterbox  ?  " 

Mr.  Redmond  declared,  with  a  merry  twinkle  of  his  blue 
eye,  that  "  Ed,  the  scamp,  had  grown  wild  as  a  deer,  and 
tormented  him  to  death  with  her  interminable  tongue,  since 
her  marriage  with  the  bug's  nominee  for  President!  He 
could  n't  muse  a  minute,  or  take  a  nap  on  the  sofa,  without 
having  his  hair  pulled  or  a  red  rag  tied  to  his  coat-tail  — 
by  Jupiter ! " 

Edalia's  temperament  had  changed  wonderfully  since  her 
happy  union  with  Walter  Eldon.  Her  pensive  cast  had  all 
evanished  with  her  loss  of  individuality ;  and  a  happy  heart 
made  a  merry  countenance  and  music  day-long  in  her  sun- 
shiny home.  She  was  a  loved  and  loving  wife,  and  life  lay 
blossom-crowned  before  her,  seemingly  one  long  unclouded 
summer-bright  day. 

"  —  Why  so,  chatterbox  ?  " 

"  Because,  uncle,  it  is  said  a  poetic  temperament  only 
requires  some  adverse  circumstance  to  develop  its  powers  ; 
and  Bertha  comes  under  that  rule.  She  has  the  'divine 
afflatus'  in  an  eminent  degree,  and  I  think  she  certainly  has 
'learned  in  suffering'  quite  enough  to  'teach  in  song.'  I 
fancy  I  see  premonitions  of  a  literary  career  in  this  most 
remarkable  letter."  And  Edalia  read  it  aloud  to  the  ad- 
miring gentlemen. 

"  Well,  that  reads  like  a  book,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a 
gratified  snap  of  his  bright  eyes  ;  —  "  't  would  n't  look  bad 
in  print,  either.  If  Bertha  ever  tries  her  hand  with  the 
author's  pen  she  '11  succeed —  I  '11  go  my  bet  on  that !  " 

And  Bertha  had  tried  and  succeeded  ;  but  safely  sheltered 
beneath  a  friendly  nom  de  plume.  She  learned  enough  of 
her  powers,  and  the  appreciation  of  the  public,  in  her  secure 
retreat,  to  come  forth  bravely,  at  last,  self-conscious  and 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  257 

self-sustaining;  and  twelve  months  after  her  abandonment 
of  her  worthless  husband,  "Bertha  Belmont  Stanhope"  was 
favorably  known  to  the  literary  world.  She  learned  to  live 
a  new  and  happier  life  in  the  Vale  of  Tempe,  than  she  had 
ever  known  in  by-gone  years  ;  and  her  troubled  spirit  calmed 
in  the  lulling  waters  of  Helicon. 

Our  heroine  grew  stronger  in  the  daily  exercise  of  scram- 
bling up  the  rugged  heights  of  Parnassus,  where  she  caught 
warmer  glimpses  of  the  life  far  above  this  cold  and  sordid 
earth,  from  her  ideal  stand-point. 

Mr.  Redmond  entered  his  home,  one  day,  with  a  remark- 
ably elastic  step  for  a  man  of  his  age,  and  a  queer  smile 
about  his  eyes  and  mouth.  He  held  an  open  paper  in  both 
hands. 

Minnie  was  sitting  with  Edalia ;  and  Charlie,  her  bright 
boy,  was  expressing  his  delight  at  the  tiny  white  face  in 
Walter's  arms.  Mr.  Redmond  was  a  grand-uncle,  and  made 
a  wry  face  at  the  ancient  sound. 

"  I  say,  Ed,  it 's  come  at  last ;  you  said  so !  But  it 's  got 
the  heart-ache,  and  I  've  caught  it  —  poor  child ! " 

"What  is  it,  Uncle  Ned?  "  and  Minnie's  eyes  widened. 

"  Bertha  Belmont  Stanhope's  first  poem,  in  the  '  Williams- 
ville  Banner,'  as  pretty  a  bud  as  ever  opened  in  springtime! 
but  it's  got  a  big  bright  tear  in  it,  by  Jupiter! " 

"  O-h-h ! "  and  Minnie  made  a  lunge  at  the  paper,  and 
succeeded  in  capturing  it. 

"  We  '11  have  more  of  the  same  sort,  too  ;  for  the  editor 
tells  us  'he  is  happy  to  announce  to  his  readers  —  many  of 
whom  are  personally  acquainted  with  the  fair  and  gifted 
author  —  that  he  has  been  so  fortunate  as  to  engage  her  as 
a  regular  contributor.'  Bertha  's  bound  to  shine  in  the 
literary  galaxy,  I  see  that.     What 's  the  matter,  Min  ?  " 

"  I  've  swallowed  that  tear,  and  it  chokes  me,  Uncle  Ned ! " 

"  I  thought  so,  by  Jupiter !  I  'd  like  to  see  the  heart  that 
22*  R 


258  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

would  n't  melt  in  that  heat !  It  sounds  just  as  Bertha  used 
to  look — plaintive  and  heart-broken.  I  wonder  if  that 
child  did  n't  meet  with  some  disappointment  in  early  youth? 
She  always  looked  as  though  she  had  lost  something,  and 
was  trying  to  think  where  she  had  dropped  it.  I  've  always 
had  the  impression  she  was  in  love  when  she  left  the  low 
brown  house  with  the  long  piazza,  but  I  never  let  it  out 
before.  Don't  you  girls  know  ?  There !  I  thought  so,  by 
Jupiter !  What  are  you  crossing  eyes  about  ?  I  won't  let 
the  cat  out." 

"  Bertha  has  acknowledged  as  much,  uncle ;  but  I  haven't 
the  slightest  clue  to  the  discovery  of  the  individual,  unless 
it  is  Edward  Kedmond,  Esquire,  as  I  suggested,  years  ago. 
You  would  n't  act  upon  the  suggestion,  and  ask  her  ?  " 

"Fiddlesticks!  p-h-e-w!  get  out!"  growled  the  old  man, 
with  a  frowning  brow  and  a  dash  of  humor  in  his  eyes. 
"  May  and  December  don't  mate  well,  or  I  might  have  been 
tempted  to  try  it,  and  save  her  from  that  green-eyed,  grace- 
less Stanhope.  But  seriously,  young  folks,  I  think  I  have 
the  key  that  locks  up  the  secret  in  Bertha's  heart,  and  just 
shows  its  head  in  that  poem." 

"Do  tell,  Uncle  Ned!"  —  and  Minnie  sidled  up,  coax- 
ingly. 

"Shan't  do  it  till  I  'm  convinced  of  the  fact,  and  there's 
no  danger  of  betraying  what  she  has  so  long  concealed.  I  've 
watched  her  too  closely,  from  childhood,  not  to  have  read 
something  of  her  hidden  nature,  and  —  " 

"Oh,  you  have! — so,  so!"  interrupted  Minnie,  dipping 
down  and  peering  significantly  into  his  sober  face,  —  "that 
lets  the  cat  out  on  t'  other  side,  Uncle  Ned ! " 

"  Oh,  blast  the  —  I  mean,  bless  the  girl !  I  can't  walk 
soberly  into  a  serious  subject  without  getting  my  foot  in  the 
mud  of  a  foreign  and  facetious  matter.  Hanged  if  I  '11 
keep  such  company  —  by  Jupiter !  " 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  259 

The  old  gentleman  rocked  himself  out  of  the  room,  with 
an  unusually  red  face,  and  both  hands  punching  out  his 
coat-flaps,  with  shouts  of  laughter  following  him  from  the 
"  young  folks." 

"  I  wonder  whom  he  suspects  ?  "  said  Minnie,  softly. 

"  Can't  imagine,"  responded  Edalia. 

"  The  man  in  the  moon,"  suggested  Walter. 

"  Walter,  maybe,"  —  and  Minnie  laid  one  rosy  finger 
across  her  red  mouth  and  looked  cunningly  around. 

"  Missed  the  mark,  then.     Bertha  never  loved  me." 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  I  could  n't  be  deceived.  If  she  had,  she  might  have  won 
me  when  Ed  was  ice !  I  half  died  for  some  one  to  love  me, 
when  I  was  a  poor,  lone  boy.  But  it 's  all  over  now,"  he 
said,  hastily,  as  tears  started  to  Edalia's  eyes,  —  "  and  the 
darkness  of  the  past  only  renders  the  present  brighter." 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 
bertha's  nerves  receive  a  sudden  shock. 

WHAT  wit?" 
Bertha  was  standing  before  the  mirror,  gazing  half 
sadly  at  the  image  reflected  therein. 

And  what  was  Bertha  thinking  about?  And  why  the 
self-query  ? 

She  was  wondering  what  it  was  in  that  pale,  pensive  face 
that  was  so  attractive.  She  could  see  no  beauty  there,  and 
wondered  at  the  strange  fascination  that  pale,  pensive  face 
possessed  for  others. 

She  had  just  parted  with  a  new  suitor  —  a  stranger,  and 


260  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

minister  of  the  gospel.  Bertha  was  pleased  by  such  a  con- 
quest, but  his  sad,  half  despairing  eyes,  as  she  informed  him 
of  her  situation,  pained  her  memory. 

Edwin  Langley  had  seen  her  yesterday  for  the  first  time ; 
to-night  he  had  declared  himself  her  lover.  Bertha  was 
startled  by  the  sudden  and  unlooked-for  declaration.  She 
knew  his  piety  and  worth  by  reputation  ;  and  the  noble 
heart  that  ached  in  his  expressive  eyes  at  bidding  her  and 
his  hopes  farewell,  pained  her  own  sympathizing  heart. 

And  our  heroine  stood  before  the  mirror,  in  her  silent 
chamber,  and  examined  the  pale,  sickly,  sad  face,  with  its 
mournful  brown  eyes  and  small,  grieving  mouth,  and  mar- 
velled at  its  strange  power.  Here,  as  in  her  childhood's 
home,  she  was  still  "Bertha  the  Beauty,"  though  twenty- 
two  years  had  gone  over  her  head,  and  four  of  those  years 
filled  to  overflowing  with  deep  soul-suffering.  Bertha  won- 
dered that  the  golden-brown  curls,  put  plainly  away  from 
her  veined  forehead  behind  her  small  ears,  were  not  as  white 
as  the  marble-like  cheeks  they  bordered,  when  she  wandered 
through  the  past,  in  thought,  and  stood  in  the  black  shadows 
of  her  fate.  She  was  not  happy,  for  her  life  had  been  a 
failure  —  her  girlish  dreams  of  the  future  lay  in  ruins  upon 
the  wayside  of  the  dead  years,  and  she  was  alone,  though 
surrounded  by  loving  hearts.  There  was  a  great  void  in 
her  life,  that  ached  day-long  and  far  into  the  night  with  its 
emptiness. 

She  had  won  fame  with  her  fire-tipped  pen ;  her  poems 
were  transcripts  of  the  heart  that  wrestled  with  its  dark 
destiny ;  and  they  took  firmly  hold  of  the  heart  that  read, 
and  showered  back  praise  upon  the  author.  But  that  did 
not  satisfy.  The  poor  lone  heart  that  sang  the  low  requiem 
of  its  earthly  life  ached  on,  and  was  hungry  still. 

"I  say,  sis, — do  you  remember  Percy  Ormund,  the  nice 


THE    BEAUTY.  261 

young  fellow  who  boarded  a  while  with  us  in  the  low  brown 
house  with  the  long  piazza?" 

This  was  Claude's  query  to  Bertha,  as  he  came  in  from 
"down  town,"  one  day. 

Our  heroine's  head  was  bent  over  the  MS.  before  her, 
and  Claude  could  not  see  her  face.  She  had  turned  toward 
him,  as  he  entered,  with  her  accustomed  smile  of  welcome  ; 
but  ere  the  query  was  ended,  the  small  head  was  bent  lower 
than  when  he  entered  her  presence,  and  the  clustering  curls 
fell  over  the  face  that  was  averted  more  than  was  necessary 
to  accommodate  her  vision  to  the  MS.  before  her. 

"Yes,  I  do  remember,  now,"  she  said,  after  a  slight 
hesitation. 

"  Well,  the  old  boy  has  been  '  histed '  to  a  high  post  in 
Carolina  by  the  appreciating  people.  I've  just  seen  the 
announcement  in  print." 

"I  want  tew  know!  —  yeou  don't  say!"  said  Bertha, 
turning  full  upon  Claude,  and  screwing  her  small  mouth 
facetiously. 

"  I  swan  tew  man  if  it  ben't  a  fact !  —  shiver  my  timbers ! " 
responded  Claude,  catching  at  the  reminder,  and  exploding 
with  mirth. 

"  Well,  I  'm  truly  glad  to  hear  of  the  old  boy's  luck," 
continued  Claude,  delightedly,  — "  he  was  just  about  the 
finest  young  fellow  that  ever  stood  five  feet  eleven  in  his 
boots  before  he  was  twenty.  I  'd  like  to  know  if  he  *s  grown 
much  taller  since  '  old  pod-anger  days.'  If  he  has,  he  don't 
have  to  pay  tax  in  this  country,  now  that  he  's  twenty-nine ! 
He  was  only  nineteen  then.  How  the  years  do  fly ! "  he 
added,  musingly,  without  looking  at  Bertha.  "  I  was  only 
twelve  then,  and  now  I  Jm  twenty-two.  Heigh-ho  !  quite 
an  old  man,  and  not  married  yet !     I  wonder  if  Percy  is  ?  " 

"  Beyond  a  doubt,"  said  Bertha,  scratching  away  with  a 
pen,  her  head  bent  low  over  the  sheet  before  her. 


262  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"The  old  fellow  tried  to  get  back  as  a  private  pupil  of 
pa's,  you  remember,  dou't  you?" 

"I  believe  I  have  a  faint  remembrance,"  said  Bertha, 
carelessly. 

"  And  if  pa  had  n't  refused,  we  might  know  more  about 
him  now.  A  longer  acquaintance  might  have  led  to  some- 
thing lasting.  Who  knows  ? "  he  asked,  looking  archly 
around  ;  but  Bertha's  face  was  invisible. 

"  Tut !  "  she  said,  without  lifting  her  veiled  face ;  but 
comprehending  his  insinuation,  "  nothing  but  children  we 
were." 

"  He  was  a  pretty  big  child  then,  I  must  say.  I  wonder 
why  he  wished  to  return  as  a  private  pupil,  with  such  edu- 
cational advantages  in  his  own  city.  You  were  a  wee  bit 
of  a  brat  then,  and  I  was  too  small  for  suspicion;  but  dog, 
if  I  don't  smell  a  mice  at  this  late  day !  I  wish  it  had  been 
a  bee,  for  he  was  a  noble  young  fellow ;  and  then  you  would 
have  missed  that  green-eyed,  roguish  Stanhope !  I  wonder 
where  the  rascal  will  turn  up  next,  now  that  he  's  sold  his 
handsome  house,  and  left  Batavia  —  ha,  ha!  " 

"I  can't  imagine."  Bertha  dropped  the  pen,  and  turned 
around  now.     "  Not  here,  I  hope,  with  his  reputation." 

"  It  would  n't  be  well  for  him  !  "  growled  Claude  ;  "  he  'd 
carry  off  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers,  if  he  did  n't  bring  a 
better  character  than  he 's  got  up  there  !  I  wonder  why  the 
fellow  don't  leave  the  world,  and  take  a  tree  to  hide  his 
infamous  head !  And  then  to  tax  his  Yankee  cunning  to 
get  you  back,  when  he  can't  take  care  of  himself,  —  the 
dishonest  dog !  I  wish  he  'd  keep  his  letters  to  himself — 
they  're  sickening !  " 

"  He  will,  in  future.  He  means  to  apply  for  a  divorce, 
'on  the  ground  of  abandonment,'  unless  I  return.  I  shall 
write  him  no  more." 

"  Good  —  by  George!  "  shouted  Claude,  starting  up  with 


263 

abound.  "Go  it,  old  green-eyes  and  rogue! — nobody '11 
stop  you  !  "  he  cried,  jubilantly,  overturning  a  chair,  as  he 
cut  the  pigeon-wing  around  the  room. 

"  Well,  that 's  the  best  news  I  've  heard  in  six  years  !  " 
he  said,  as  he  sobered  down  and  replaced  the  chair.  "I 
don't  want  that  name  hung  on  to  mine  any  longer,  and  I 
would  have  cut  it  loose,  long  ago,  if  it  could  have  been 
done.  But  as  you  deserted  him,  it  made  it  a  hard  matter 
for  you  to  clip  it  off.  I  thank  the  rascal  for  the  only  favor 
he  ever  did  us  in  all  his  days,  if,  indeed,  he  does  it  now ! 
I  'm  afraid  it 's  too  good  to  be  true !  " 

"  I  shall  know  through  Alonzo.    I  wrote  him  last  night." 
"And  didn't  tell  me!     Why  did  you  keep  dark?" 
"  I  wished  to  get  the  truth  first ;  but  you  drew  me  out." 
"  Well,  the  Lord  knows  I  hope  he  '11  put   it  through ! 
And  if  he  does,  just  drop  that  name,  like  a  hot  potato.     It 
burns  my  pride  and  honor,   I  swan  !  "  said  gay  Claude, 
laying  himself  back  at  full  length  in  the  old  arm-chair, 
and  opening  his  mouth  with  a  long,  heart-full  laugh. 

Bertha  caught  up  the  paper  before  her  and  went  up  the 
stairs,  as  Mr.  Belmont  entered  the  sitting-room.  She  trem- 
bled as  she  went,  and  her  face  was  strangely  white,  but 
there  was  a  burning  light  in  her  brown  eyes,  and  a  soft 
smile  upon  her  delicate  lips. 

She  did  not  sit  down  in  her  chamber,  but  wandered  rest- 
lessly to  and  fro.  Then  she  went  to  the  mirror  and  scruti- 
nized her  countenance;  but  her  eyes  soon  wTent  by  her  own 
shadow,  and  she  sawT  another  face — the  face  that  had  fol- 
lowed her  ten  long,  weary,  struggling  years!  And  Bertha 
looked  into  the  mild,  spiritual  eyes,  smiling  faintly  through 
the  dark  distance,  as  they  had  smiled  in  the  low  brown 
house  with  the  long  piazza,  and  her  lips  syllabled  the 
name  "Percy!"  She  had  not  brea'thed  it  before,  since  she 
stood  at  the  bridal  altar  with  Horace  Stanhope. 


264         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

But  now  she  was  free  —  his  sius  had  separated  them  for- 
ever ;  and  it  was  no  wrong  to  breathe  that  cherished  name. 
She  was  free  to  dwell  in  loving  remembrance  upon  that 
face,  but  not  free  to  wear  his  name,  even  if  he  were  still 
unbound  by  silken  fetters  ;  and  it  was  relief  to  her  long- 
caged  spirit  to  flutter  away  from  its  cold  prison,  and  wander 
at  will  in  the  warm  sunshine  of  early  years. 

He  had  in  all  probability  forgotten  her,  the  timid  little 
child  of  fourteen,  who  had  carried  his  memory  in  her  heart, 
despite  her  efforts  to  shut  it  out,  from  a  sense  of  duty  and 
honor,  and  brought  it  up  the  long  lane  of  the  past  to  dwell 
upon  Now  without  self-reproach  ;  he  would  perhaps  never 
know  the  lasting  impression  of  his  noble  life  upon  the  green 
leaf  of  a  few  short  days  in  the  "  long  ago  ; "  but  she  was 
free  to  reflect  now,  and  liberty  was  sweet. 

A  breath  of  childhood  days  came  over  her  as  she  stood 
there  dreaming,  with  face  bowed  upon  her  hand  —  a  feeling 
of  youth,  and  hope,  and  happiness. 

He  had  never  said  he  loved  her,  but  Bertha  felt  its  exist- 
ence, when  she  met  his  beaming  eyes  in  those  sun-bright 
days,  when  they  dwelt  beneath  the  same  moss-covered  roof; 
and  had  he  been  permitted  to  return  to  the  low  brown 
house  with  the  long  piazza,  how  different  might  have  been 
her  fate ! 

She  was  too  sensitive  to  intercede  in  his  behalf  when  Mr. 
Belmont  received  his  written  request ;  she  would  have  suf- 
fered martyrdom  sooner  than  betray  her  heart-secret ;  and 
a  negative  answer  was  returned.     It  sealed  her  doom ! 

Bertha  shuddered  as  she  reached  this  point,  and  turned 
away  from  the  contemplation  of  her  fate. 

Was  it  not  strange,  she  mused,  that  his  name  had  been 
sounded  in  her  ear  for  the  first  time  since  that  fatal  nine- 
teenth of  June  ?  —  now  that  she  was  but  just  free  to  hear  it 
spoken  without  an  inward  ache  —  a  soul-longing  and  pain 


BEAUTY.  26*5 

that  must  have  betrayed  her  to  unsuspecting  Claude,  even 
though  her  face  was  concealed. 

Had  it  been  uttered  in  the  presence  of  Horace  Stanhope, 
she  doubted  her  firmness  to  sustain  the  shock.  But  now 
she  was  free  ;  and  though  Percy  might  be  bound,  she  was 
innocent  in  heart  in  dwelling  upon  the  memory  of  their 
early  love,  that  budded  far  back  in  the  silvery  morn,  and 
still  blossomed  on  in  the  setting  sunlight  of  ten  long, 
weary,  struggling  years  agone ! 


CHAPTER    XLV. 


"old   folks   at   home." — bertha's   talents 
discussed. 

IT  was  a  mild  and  sunny  May  morning. 
Mr.  Eldon,  senior,  sat  in  his  easy-chair  beside  an  open 
window  —  an  escape-valve  for  the  white,  perfumed  cloud 
that  curled  upward  from  his  parted  lips, — watching,  with 
evident  satisfaction,  the  eagerness  and  activity  of  sprightly 
Edward  Wilmer  —  Edalia's  three-year-old  —  as  he  climbed 
up  the  chair-rounds,  and  contended  for  the  late  paper,  over 
the  tiny  form  of  blue-eyed  baby  Eva,  fast  asleep  in  Mr. 
Redmond's  arms. 

Two  manly  arms  slipped  from  behind  Edalia  over  her 
shoulders,  crossing  under  her  chin,  and  a  loving  voice  ex- 
claimed : 

"  A  letter  from  Agnes,  little  wife." 

"  Excellent !     Charming !  " 

"What?     Let's  have  it,  Ed,"  and  Mr.  Redmond  threw 
down  his  paper. 
23 


266 

"Agnes  is  wedded  to  her  early  love,  and  comes  to  Caro- 
lina in  September,  to  hibernate." 

"  Good  !  Agnes  is  a  noble  girl ;  and,  by  Jupiter !  I  once 
thought  the  little  witch  was  bound  to  upset  my  air-castle." 

Walter  smiled. 

"  I  owe  Agnes  a  debt  of  gratitude,  sir,  for  it  was  through 
her  that  I  discovered  the  dawning  of  Edie's  love.  I  per- 
mitted the  current  report  of  my  betrothal  to  her,  to  mark 
the  effect  upon  the  genuine  object  of  my  hopes;  and  the  full 
conviction  of  reciprocal  affection  well-nigh  surprised  me 
into  a  downright  declaration." 

"  Capital,  by  Jupiter !  But  your  pride  got  the  ascendancy, 
eh  ?  I  say,  hang  (Ed,  you  scamp,  get  off  of  my  toe !)  all 
lovers'  pride !  But  yonder  comes  Min,  with  her  red  cheeks 
and  fun-loving  eyes  —  the  same  old  Minnie  Montrose,  for 
mischief  and  mirth.  She  sent  me  a  snail,  this  morning, 
with  a  written  request  that  I  'd  '  try  my  fortune,  for  it  was 
not  good  that  man  should  be  alone'  —  the  gipsy." 

Minnie  entered,  leading  Charlie,  who  locked  arms  with 
Ed  right  bravely  in  a  rough-and-tumble  exercise  over  the 
carpet. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news,  good  people?" 

"  No  —  yes  —  the  snail  ?  " 

"  Ha !  ha !  he !  he !  —  no.  Colonel  Henley  led  the  amiable 
widow  Tomlin  to  the  hymenial  altar  at  the  seasonable  hour 
of  six,  this  morning,  and  they  're  off  to  Niagara  on  a  bridal 
tour." 

Mr.  Redmond  started  bolt-upright. 

"  Thun-derf  Well,  there  could  n't  a-been  a  better  match 
scared  up  between  the  two  oceans.  He  may  take  his  turn 
at  the  '  grindstgne,'  now  —  eh,  Wall,  my  boy?  If  she  don't 
pepper  his  dish  for  'im,  I'm  hanged !  I'll  bet  on  the  woman, 
by  Jupiter ! " 

"  Poor  Tomlin ! "  said  Mr.  Eldon,  "  a  nobler  boy  never 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  267 

gave  promise  of  noble  things.  I  'in  told  his  wealth  and 
extraneous  influence  won  him  his  heartless  bride;  and  his 
domestic  life  impelled  him  to  '  fly  to  ills  he  knew  not  of/ 
rather  than  *  bear  the  ones  he  had.' " 

"Pre-cisely!  And  there's  many  a  poor  fellow  in  the 
same  fix.  A  termagant's  tongue  will  lash  'most  any  man 
into  kingdom  come  before  this  time ;  and  if  Henley  don't 
run  the  gauntlet,  and  pay  dear  for  the  whistle,  there  never 
was  a  Franklin.  Charles  would  a-been  a  second  Tomlin,  if 
he'd  had  a  Tomlin's  wife  —  eh,  Min  ?  All  the  Father 
Matthews,  and  salt  in  the  sea,  would  n't  a-saved  'im.  Poor 
Tomlin !  I  reasoned  with  him  on  his  desperate  course,  a 
few  days  before  that  grim  monster  mania-a-potu  sent  him 
to  his  long  home;  and,  said  he: 

"  'Squire  Redmond,  I'll  stick  a  pin  there,  to  everything 
you  've  said.  God  bless  you,  Squire,  I  know  you  're  right  ; 
but  I  don't  want  to  live,  and  I  ain't  fit  to  die:  so  I  just 
split  the  difference,  and  go  to  heaven  in  a  "  horn."  I  say, 
Squire,  if  Job  had  shivered  in  my  shoes,  we  never  should 
SL-heard  of  him.     No  two  ways  about  that.' 

"  Well,  all  this  won't  justify  him  in  the  day  of  final  ac- 
counts ;  but  Tomlin  was  no  Socrates,  and  died  the  death  of 
an  Abner." 

"And  moreover  and  furthermore,"  continued  Minnie, 
adopting  phraseology  that  smacked  of  the  legal  profession, 
"  Peter  is  preparing  an  oration  for  the  '  Glorious  Fourth/ 
and  sent  to  the  city,  by  Charles,  this  morning,  for  Spurz- 
heim's  Philosophy,  and  Combe's  Constitution  of  Man." 

"Ha!  ha!  Well,  I'm  bound  to  hear  that,  by  Jupiter! 
(Providence  permitting.)  I  say,  Walter,  won't  it  be  tall? — 
away  up  in  the  seventh  story  of  human  nature's  habitation 
—  a  regular  aeronautic  expedition.  The  way  he  will  dive 
into  Webster,  and  bring  up  the  grand  progenitors,  in  such 
order  as  would  make  the  old  Lexicographers  'two  eyes 


268  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

start  from  their  spheres/  and  Ignorance  cry,  'a  kingdom  foi 
a  horse.' 

"  Peter  speculates  largely  on  a  small  capital,  and  verifies 
the  assertion  of  the  poet  to  a  T :  —  'a  little  learning  is  a 
dangerous  thing.'  What  he  has  drank  of  the  'Pierian 
Spring  '  won't  stagnate  for  want  of  stirring.  His  acquire- 
ments are  emphatically  pro  bono  publico.  I  'm  afraid  Peter 's 
destined  to  perpetual  celibacy." 

"  Like  you,  Uncle  Ned  ?  —  'hem  !  How  does  the  snail 
prosper  ?  " 

"  Humph  !  reckon  it 's  doing  pretty  well,  considering.  I 
gave  it  a  through-ticket  on  the  aerial  railway,  and  a  deed 
1  signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  to  itself,  its  heirs  and  assigns,' 
in  the  presence  of  Aunt  Cora,  witness  to  all  out-doors." 

"Now?" 

"  Fact,  by  Jupiter  !  " 

"  Then  Ephraim  is  joined  to  his  idols,  in  all  conscience ! " 

"  Point-blank ;  you  've  hit  the  nail  plump  on  the  head. 
By  the  way,  Min,  it 's  just  seven  years  to-day  since  you  and 
Ed  consulted  the  oracle." 

"/didn't." 

"Sure  enough.  But  I'll  bet  two  chincapins,  you  might 
have  found  another  bug  under  that  old  maple." 

"  'Cause  why  ?  " 

"  I  saw  two  there  myself."  The  old  gentleman's  eyes 
twinkled. 

"  Oh,  ho !  — '  thereby  hangs  a  tale.'  And  I  '11  double  the 
bet,  that  you  ' saw'  the  letters  made  in  the  plate  too." 

"  Fiddlesticks !     I  did  n't  land  the  bug  in  the  meal." 

"Just  so!  but  you  left  a  '  land  '-mark  in  the  bottom, — say, 
Uncle  Ned?" 

"  Shan't  do  it !  I  'm  counsel  for  defendant ;  no  State's 
evidence  in  me.     Seen  Ed's  dressing-case,  Min  ?  " 

"Never  did  till  her  wedding-day." 


BEAUTY.  269 

"  W-h-e-w !  so  there 's  one  woman  who  can  keep  a  secret ! 
Well,  that 's  the  very  identical  shell  — the  real  Simon  Pure 
—  that  Ed  said  grace  over  once  upon  a  time.  I  had  it  fixed 
in  that  fashion  so  's  to  '  keep  her  pure  mind  stirred  up,  by- 
way of  remembrance.'   Ha!  ha!  I  say,  bless  the  bug,  by  Ju  — 

Oo  !  oo !  Ed,  you  rascal,  let  'e  go  my  hair, 

'Cause,  you  see,  I  have  n't,  sir,  a  single  bit  to  spare!  " 

The  old  gentleman  started  up,  amazed  at  the  spontaneity 
of  his  poetic  genius,  and  stepped  about  the  room  exultingly, 
with  Ed  and  Charlie  swinging  to  his  coat-tails,  and  little 
Eva's  big  blue  eyes  shining  over  his  shoulder. 

"Almost  as  good  as  Bert's,  I  declare,"  said  Minnie,  draw- 
ing down  her  mouth  with  affected  solemnity. 

"  The  wise  man  tells  us  '  there  is  a  time  for  all  things,' 
and  I  have  been  biding  mine.  Here  is  news  for  friendship's 
ear,  with  your  permission,"  said  Walter,  looking  up  from 
the  paper  before  him. 

"  What  is  that,  pray  ? "  and  Minnie  stretched  her  neck  to 
read  the  title. 

"  The  '  Williamsville  Banner.'  " 

"You  selfish  thing!"  said  Minnie,  making  a  grab  at  the 
paper. 

"Hold  on  ! "  and  Walter  put  the  paper  behind  him,  pro- 
vokingly.     "  I  'm  to  be  spokesman." 

"  Well,  hurry  then,  for  I  'm  walking  on  eggs." 

"  Or  a  bed  of  hot  ashes,"  suggested  Mr.  Redmond,  shut- 
ting one  eye  and  turning  the  other  up. 

"'Buds  and  Blossoms'  is  the  title  of  a  work  now  in  press, 
from  the  facile  and  vigorous  pen  of  Bertha  Belmont,  well 
known  in  this  section  as  '  Bertha  the  Beauty.'  Our  talented 
and  accomplished  correspondent  very  justly  enjoys  an  ex- 
tensive reputation,  ranking  among  the  first  authors  of  our 
country,  though  young  in  years ;  and  we  are  confident  her 
23* 


270  BERTHA,  THE  EEAUTY. 

present  forthcoming  volume  will  sustain  her  renown  as  a 
writer.  It  will  be  issued  at  an  early  day.  Any  of  our  read- 
ers who  would  like  to  procure  a  copy  of  this  new  work  can 
be  furnished,  just  as  soon  as  it  shall  be  given  to  the  public, 
by  leaving  their  names  with  us. 

"  There  is  a  mournful,  soul-touching  beauty  about  the 
poetry  of  this  lady,  that  appeals  directly  to  the  tenderest 
feelings  of  our  nature. 

"  Miss  Belmont  is  a  lady  of  rare  taste  and  cultivation, 
and,  to  our  fancy,  one  of  the  most  original,  natural,  and 
beautiful  poets  of  the  day.  She  has  recently  taken  a  prize 
from  the  literati  of  the  'Athens  of  America.' " 

"Miss  Belmont!  What  the  deuce  does  that  mean?" 
Mr.  Redmond  started  up,  and  looked  at  Edalia  for  a  solu- 
tion of  the  mystery. 

"  I  expect  Bertha  is  divorced,  uncle." 

"  You  '  expect ' !     What  do  you  faioiv,  I  say  ?  " 

"  Nothing  '  fur  shore,'  as  Aunt  Cora  says,  but  I  've  had  a 
hint  from  Bertha  relative  to  her  anticipations  —  that 's  all." 

"  Why,  she  could  n't  obtain  one  yet ;  she  deserted  him." 

"She  bound  me  over  to  keep  the  peace;  but  as  the  deed  is 
no  doubt  done,  it  won't  be  a  breach  of  confidence  to  speak 
now.  Stanhope  threatened  to  apply  for  a  divorce  from  her 
if  she  did  a't  return  to  him,  and  I  presume  he  has  executed 
the  threat." 

"  Ha !  ha !  Well,  that 's  the  best  deed  he  ever  did  in 
his  life,  I  haven't  a  doubt.  I  didn't  think  it  was  in  him  to 
be  so  charitable,  by  Jupiter !  The  rascal 's  after  another  to 
torment  to  death  —  I'll  bet  all  the  chincapins  that  drop 
next  Fall.  Found  the  game  was  up  with  Bertha,  and 
shuffled  the  cards  for  a  new  cut.  I  reckon  Bertha  don't 
care,  eh?" 

"  I  reckon  not,"  said  Edalia,  with  a  queer  smile  about 
her  firm  mouth. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  271 

"  Well  now,  I  hope  Belmont  and  Claude  will  mind  their 
own  business,  and  let  her  make  her  own  choice  next  time," 
growled  Mr.  Redmond. 

"She  won't  marry  another  Yankee,  I'll  warrant!"  laughed 
Minnie,  clapping  her  hands,  and  giving  Mr.  Redmond's  hair 
a  pull  over  the  chair-top. 

"  0-u:c-h  !  you  ought  to  marry  a  Yankee,  to  get  the  mis- 
chief taken  out  of  you  —  you  witch  !  " 

"Stanhope  applied  'on  the  ground  of  abandonment.'  Does 
that  leave  Bertha  free  to  marry  again,  uncle?"  inquired 
Edalia. 

"  Well,  no  —  not  morally  free ;  but  the  world  winks  at 
such  marriages.  If  Stanhope  marries  again,  then  Bertha 
can  obtain  a  divorce  on  Scriptural  grounds.  But  I  doubt 
if  she  would  ever  apply,  even  if  he  should  rise  to  the  sur- 
face again  —  she 's  too  shrinking." 

"  Who  is  '  he,'  Uncle  Ned  ?  P-l-e-a-s-e  tell,  you  old  wise- 
acre. It  won't  do  any  hurt  now ;  Bertha  is  free,"  pleaded 
Minnie,  sweetly,  putting  one  arm  around  the  old  man's  neck. 

"  Oh,  you  may  hug  me  much  as  you  please,  but  you  won't 
honey  that  secret  out  with  sugar,  by  Jupiter ! "  said  Mr. 
Redmond,  winking  at  the  grate. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 


WHAT  does  Alonzo  say?"  inquired  Mr.  Belmont,  with 
a  half-smile  about  his  mouth,  but  an  anxious,  doubt- 
ful expression  in  his  eager  eyes,  as  Bertha  finished  the  long 
letter  just  received. 


272 

"  I  am  free"  answered  Bertha,  trying  to  look  sober,  but 
her  eyes  betrayed  her. 

"  Has  the  fellow  really  got  a  divorce  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  Alonzo  is  reliable." 

"  Well  now,  I  'm  satisfied,"  said  gay  Claude.  "  I  '11  for- 
give him  for  all  the  past  on  the  strength  of  this  one  favor. 
I  believe  I  really  love  the  rascal,  now  that  he  's  out  of  the 
way.  Dog  if  I  was  n't  afraid  I  'd  come  home  some  day  and 
find  the  fellow  had  spirited  you  off  again.  He  cheated  us 
twice,  and  if  he  'd  come  around  the  third  time,  I  might 
have  given  him  something  that  would  put  me  in  a  close 
place.  Now  you  are  free  from  him,  but  not  at  liberty  to 
put  your  neck  in  another  noose  —  understand  that,  /shan't 
favor  another  suitor,  you  'd  better  believe !  " 

Bertha  looked  him  steadily  in  the  eyes. 

"  I  know  I  am  not  free  to  marry  again,  in  a  moral  sense ; 
but  if  I  were,  and  had  a  thousand  suitors,  it  would  be  as 
vain  for  you,  or  any  one,  to  attempt  to  influence  or  control 
me,  against  my  will,  as  it  was  easy  in  the  past." 

"Ug!  that  steps  on  my  toe!"  grunted  facetious  Claude, 
wrinkling  up  his  face ;  "  and  yours  too,  landlord,"  nodding 
at  his  pleased  father.  "I  reckon  we  won't  meddle  with  that 
female  Hercules  any  more  till  she  gets  ready  to  slip  through 
-hey?" 

Mr.  Belmont  was  shaking  with  inaudible  laughter,  and 
chewing  rapidly.  He  gave  a  loud  squirt  from  his  full 
mouth  towards  the  spittoon,  and  answered : 

"  I  shan't  put  my  finger  into  any  more  pies.  A  burnt 
child  dreads  the  fire,  and  if  her  next  dish  ain't  well  cooked, 
it  won't  be  my  fault.  She  may  bake  her  own  cake  next 
time." 

"  If  she  does,  I  '11  make  it  burn,  I  '11  bet !  "  said  Claude, 
frowningly.  "  I  shan't  agree  to  have  any  more  brother-in- 
law,  if  he  is  a  doctor — eh,  sis?  " 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         273 

"  Oh,  now  I  see  the  point,"  laughed  Bertha.  "  Don't  be 
alarmed  about  Zelmar,  Bud  ;  he  is  n't  of  my  religious  faith, 
or  nation.     He  's  harmless." 

"No;  but  didn't  he  tell  you,  last  night,  he  'd  go  with  his 
wife  to  the  church  she  preferred,  and  'all  that  sort  o'  thing,' 
you  know  ? " 

"  Precisely ;  but  I  don't  believe  all  I  hear  nowadays." 

"And  then  he's  so  handsome  and  highly  educated  — 
speaks  a  dozen  languages,  writes  poetry,  plays  the  piano, 
guitar,  jews-harp,  and  dances  like  a  duck  in  a  summer 
shower.     Love  him  a  little  —  hey  ?  " 

"  Ha !  ha !  haw  !  "  roared  Mr.  Belmont. 

"  If  Bertha  ever  marries  again,  I  hope  he  will  be  a  South- 
erner," said  Mi*s.  Belmont,  smilingly. 

"  Hem  !  that  ain't  saying  much  for  me ! "  exclaimed  the 
old  man,  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  his  wife,  humorously. 

"  But  it  is  for  your  daughter,"  laughed  the  loving  mother. 

"  So  the  doctor's  jig  is  up,  is  it  ?  "  asked  persistent  Claude. 

"  He  '11  never  be  your  relative  —  sure." 

"Well,  now  I  feel  better,"  said  Claude,  straightening 
himself  up.  "  I  like  him  well,  as  a  man  and  friend,  but  I 
don't  want  any  more  brother-in-law  around,  unless  —  "  He 
pursed  up  his  mouth  and  looked  intelligently  at  Bertha. 
"Halloo!  what  are  you  blushing  about?"  continued  the 
teasing  brother. 

"  Curiosity,  I  suppose.     '  Unless '  what  ?  " 

Claude  shook  his  head  threateningly  at  his  father,  and 
Mr.  Belmont  winked  significantly  back. 

"Unless  Harry  Herbert  should  turn  up  with  the  tide, 
some  day." 

"  Bless  me  !     You  don't  really  mean  it  ?  " 

"He's  one  of  the  best  men  in  the  world,  and  starved 
himself  three  days  and  nights,  after  you  married  that 
rascal." 


274  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  I  know  he  's  good  and  worthy,  but  I  don't  love  him." 
And  Bertha's  countenance  testified  to  her  truthfulness. 

"  There,  I  'm  at  sea  again,"  said  Claude,  with  a  well-satis- 
fied smile.  "I  'only  did  it  to  try  your  faith,'  sis.  Stanhope 
was  so  terribly  jealous  of  that  man,  I  thought  perhaps  he 
had  provoked  you  into  loving  him.  They  say  it  does  have 
that  effect  sometimes ;  but  here  is  one  exception,  I  see. 
Herbert  left  town  after  you  did,  and  was  lost  sight  of.  I 
reckon  we  '11  not  hear  of  him  again." 

And  satisfied  Claude  went  out,  whistling,  "I  dream  of 
all  things  bright." 

"Bertha  the  Beauty"  lost  the  look  of  pain  that  had  dwelt 
in  her  brown  eyes  through  long  years,  after  the  close  of  her 
correspondence  with  Horace  Stanhope.  She  enjoyed  her 
liberty  more,  because  her  bonds  hurt  her  pride  and  self- 
respect.  She  had  been  tied  to  a  dishonest,  godless  mortal, 
and  felt  humbled  in  her  own  eyes.  She  was  ashamed  of 
him,  and  of  herself  for  being  a  part  of  him.  She  had  never 
felt  so  light-hearted  as  when  she  read  Alonzo's  affectionate 
letter.  She  was  free  now,  even  from  his  name.  The  law 
gave  her  the  privilege  of  renouncing  or  retaining  it;  and 
Bertha  decidedly  preferred  the  first. 

Dr.  Zelmar  —  the  new  suitor  to  whom  Claude  referred  — 
colored  furiously,  and  Bertha  saw  his  hand  tremble  as  he 
read  the  first  poem  accompanied  by  her  changed  name. 
He  proposed  immediately,  and  was  rejected,  as  gently  as  a 
heart  full  of  esteem  and  sympathy  could  refuse  a  favor. 
He  returned  the  third  time,  and  then  removed  from  the  city. 

Bertha  destroyed  every  letter  that  bore  the  name  of  her 
late  husband,  and  began  life  anew.  She  had  no  intention 
of  ever  entering  into  a  second  alliance  —  she  did  not  con- 
sider herself  free  to  do  so  in  the  sight  of  heaven.  She  was 
wredded  to  literature,  and  the  union  was  a  happy  one. 

A  year  passed  away  after  our  heroine's  full  freedom  from 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         275 

Horace  Stanhope.  Her  book  had  rendered  her  distinguished 
and  popular.  She  had  many  stranger  correspondents,  both 
North  and  South ;  and  constant  calls  from  persons  curious 
to  behold  the  young  authoress. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Nettleton,  of  Batavia,  N.  Y.,  was  one  of 
her  visitors. 

Claude  improved  his  opportunity  to  inquire,  with  off-hand 
carelessness  : 

"  Did  you  know  Horace  Stanhope  during  his  residence  in 
your  city  ?  " 

"  I  knew  him  well,  by  reputation,  both  there  and  else- 
where." 

"  I  knew  him  in  North  Carolina  some  years  ago,  for  a 
short  time.     How  is  he  succeeding  in  life  ?  " 

"  He  has  succeeded  in  rendering  himself  odious,  by  his 
dishonesty  and  dissolute  habits.  He  left  Batavia  between 
two  days  to  elude  the  law ;  and  I  'm  told,  by  a  lady  who 
was  intimate  with  his  wife  —  " 

"His  wife? — married  there,  did  he?"  said  Claude,  try- 
ing to  hide  his  delighted  surprise  and  look  indifferent. 

"  No ;  he  was  married  when  he  came  to  Batavia." 

"  Ah !  I  heard  from  him  during  his  stay  there,  but  was 
not  informed  of  his  marriage.     Who  was  his  wife? 

"  Miss  Louisa  Demming,  of  Rochester." 

"  Nice  lady  ?  "  said  Claude,  carelessly. 

"  She  is  said  to  have  been  a  very  quiet  and  nice  woman 
—  much  respected  by  all  who  were  acquainted  with  her. 
But  the  reputation  of  the  man  was  not  of  the  best  kind. 
He  was  thought  to  be  a  very  fast  liver,  and  not  at  all  cal- 
culated to  set  the  Atlantic  ocean  on  fire." 

"  And  what  has  become  of  the  fast  man  ? "  inquired 
Claude,  with  facetious  indifference. 

"  Well,  he  was  engaged  in  the  mercantile  business  in 
Batavia,  and  in  process  of  time  failed,  and  left  the  place  in 


276  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

a  clandestine  manner  —  *  between  two  days,'  as  they  say  of 
him  —  since  which  time  no  one  there  has  had  any  knowl- 
edge of  him.  But  there  is  a  lady  residing  in  Corfu  who  was 
on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  Stanhope's  wife,  who  tells 
me,  when  last  heard  from,  he  was  in  Cleveland,  Ohio,  en- 
gaged in  the  photograph  business.  But  I  dare  say  he  has 
failed  by  this  time  —  that  was  two  months  ago,"  said  Mr. 
Nettleton,  with  a  spice  of  scorn  and  contempt  for  the  "fast" 
man. 

"  He  was  rather  fast  in  Carolina,"  returned  Claude,  with. 
a  humorous  expression  about  his  eyes,  —  "  so  fast,  in  fact, 
that  he  outstripped  his  good  name,  and  left  the  title  of 
Yankee  in  very  bad  odor  in  a  Southern  atmosphere.  He 
seems  to  be  peculiarly  unfortunate." 

"  Yes,  in  every  respect ;  for  when  in  Batavia  he  was  liv- 
ing with  a  second  wife,  though  his  first  wife  was  still  living, 
I  'in  told." 

"  Possible !  "  Claude  stooped  to  pick  up  something  on 
the  carpet,  and  the  exercise  reddened  his  cheeks.  "  Married 
twice,  eh,  —  at  his  age?  " 

"  Only  a  short  time  to  the  first ;  and  if  his  second  wife 
would  follow  the  example  of  her  '  illustrious  predecessor,'  it 
is  thought  it  would  be  much  to  her  advantage  and  honor. 
Perhaps  she  will,  yet.  They  have  been  married  but  a  few 
months." 

"  Did  you  know  aught  of  his  first  wife  ?  "  persisted  Claude, 
soberly.  "  I  feel  quite  interested  in  the  rascal's  history. 
What  was  she  —  her  name  —  and  where  from?  I  liked  the 
fellow  well  at  one  time." 

"  So  did  every  one,  at  first  acquaintance.  He  was  gentle- 
manly —  very  —  but  could  n't  bear  scrutiny.  He  was  a 
natural  rogue,  and  had  no  religion  to  modify  his  misfortune. 
As  to  his  first  wife,  I  know  nothing  with  regard  to  her,  only 
that  she  is  yet  living —  or  was,  a  few  months  ago.   Stanhope 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  277 

was  a  clerk  in  New  York  city;  from  there  he  went  to  Buf- 
falo, and  engaged  in  the  jewelry  business,  and  —  " 

"  I  understood  he  was  cashier  in  '  The  People's  Money- 
Saving  Bank'  of  that  city,"  interrupted  Claude,  with  open 
eyes. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  about  that;  hardly  think  it  can  be 
true,  as  it  would,  in  all  probability,  have  made  a  noise 
before  he  left,  judging  from  subsequent  events.  He  could  n't 
get  that  situation  there  now,  if  he  ever  held  it  —  I  predict," 
returned  Mr.  Nettleton,  dryly. 

Claude  Belmont,  the  jovial,  lay  flat  down  upon  the  carpet, 
and  rolled  as  far  under  the  piano  as  the  music-stool  would 
allow,  when  the  hall-door  closed  upon  Mr.  Nettleton. 

"  Well,"  said  Claude,  his  black  hair  tangled  over  his  fore- 
head, and  his  good-natured  mouth  spread  with  soul-satisfac- 
tion, "I've  got  the  whole  book  of  Genesis,  now;  and  if  I 
don't  pity  that  Louisa  Demming,  of  Rochester,  dog  me  !  " 

"  I  don't  see  any  symptoms  of  it  in  your  face,  then," 
returned  Bertha,  her  brown  eyes  shining  with  suppressed 
mirth  fulness. 

"  Oh,  it 's  interesting.  I  'm  glad  the  fellow  has  a  com- 
forter. I'm  only  sorry  for  her!  I  hope  she'll  hold  him 
back  from  going  too  fast!"  cried  Claude,  bursting  into  a 
laugh  of  surprising  volume. 

"  If  she  does,  she  '11  deserve  to  be  canonized  as  a  saint !  " 
said  Bertha,  softly.  "  And  just  to  think  he  wrote  me,  after 
he  married  her  !     I  received  a  letter  from  Batavia  !  " 

"  That 's  the  joke  —  don't  you  see !  "  cried  the  young 
brother,  rubbing  his  nose  with  his  thumb.  "  He  would 
have  left  her  'between  two  days,'  and  come  South,  if  you  'd 
given  him  a  bit  of  encouragement !  Wonder  what  Louisa 
would  think  to  know  that  ?  " 

"I  hope  she'll  never  be  disturbed  by  knowing  more  of 
his  wickedness   than  she  sees  in  his  daily  life.     She  has 


278 

my  best  wishes  and  sympathy,  I  know !  "  said  Bertha  the 
Beauty. 

"  All  I  marvel  at  is,  that  he  did  n't  come,  anyhow.  Dog 
if  I  did  n't  fear  I  'd  have  the  rascal  to  shoot  before  he  'd 
quit  tormenting  us,  and  get  my  neck  stretched  for  the 
excellent  shot!" — blearing  his  great  black  eyes  at  her, 
ludicrously. 

Bertha  turned  away,  with  a  look  of  pain  in  her  white 
face,  which  Claude  fortunately  construed  into  affection  for 
him.  She  knew  why  Horace  Stanhope  had  not  molested 
her  in  her  new  home.  It  was  a  black  story  of  sin  and 
crime  she  had  recently  learned  from  one  who  was  wholly 
ignorant  of  the  relationship  that  she  had  once  borne  to  the 
guilty  man ;  but  worthless  and  criminal  as  her  late  husband 
was,  she  would  not  expose  him  even  to  a  brother,  but  leave 
him  to  his  Maker. 

"I  wonder  if  he  won't  send  you  his  photograph!  He 
don't  know  that  you  are  aware  of  his  marriage.  Alonzo 
says  he  has  n't  heard  of  him  but  once  since  he  left  New 
York  city,  you  know  ;  and,  of  course,  the  fellow  thinks  you 
are  in  the  dark.  What  a  thing  it  is,  to  be  distinguished !  " 
said  Claude,  proudly.  "  But  for  that,  we  should  n't  have 
seen  the  Rev.  Nettleton.  Well,  if  the  rascal  does  send  his 
photograph,  I  hope  it  '11  represent  him  going  it  'fast,'  '  be- 
tween two  days ! ' "  added  Claude,  as  he  went  out  holding 
his  nose  comically. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  279 


CHAPTER    XLVII. 

A   STARTLING   LETTER.  —  BERTHA'S    HEART-SECRET   IS 
EXPOSED. 

FIFTEEN  years  had  gone  —  fifteen  years !  and  "  Bertha 
the  Beauty"  was  twenty-nine.  The  world  said  nine- 
teen I  and  Bertha  smiled  strangely.  Her  heart  was  young 
and  peaceful,  but  the  way  back  to  her  fourteenth  year  looked 
a  century  long  to  retrospection's  eye ;  and  our  heroine  won- 
dered that  wrinkles  of  age  had  not  been  creased  upon  her 
brow,  during  her  journey  over  that  long,  weary  way. 

Bertha's  heart  felt  unusually  young,  as  she  lay  there  on 
the  parlor -sofa  that  warm  May  Sabbath  afternoon,  and 
looked  away  back  through  the  microscope  of  memory,  at 
the  low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza. 

Would  she  ever  see  "  the  dear  old  place  where  first  they 
met,"  again  ?  Bertha  thought  she  would.  Edalia  and 
Minnie  were  urgent,  and  Bertha  had  promised  to  come, 
ere  long. 

Our  heroine's  pleasant  dreams  were  broken  by  the  hasty 
entrance  of  Claude,  followed  by  both  parents,  with  curiosity- 
lighted  faces. 

"  See  here,"  said  Claude,  dangling  a  letter  between  finger 
and  thumb,  "  I  've  got  something  for  you.  It  comes  from 
Percy  Ormund's  native  city,  and  I  have  a  presentiment 
it  bears  his  name.  Jehu  !  what  are  you  coloring  up  so 
about?" 

"  Oh,  poh  !     Give  me  the  letter,  you  brute !  " 

"  Well,  dog:  we,  if  I  have  n't  touched  bottom,  and  come 
ashore  at  last !  "  said  Claude,  exultingly,  catching  his  knee 
in  both  hands,  and  hopping  about  the  room  on  one  foot. 


280  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"Who  is  it?"  inquired  Mr.  Belmont,  as  Bertha  broke  the 
seal  with  fluttering  ringers  and  turned  to  the  signature. 

"  Bud  has  guessed  it,  upon  my  word  !  "  exclaimed  Bertha, 
the  crimson  of  sensibility  flooding  her  face. 

"I  swan!"  said  Claude,  dropping  down  beside  her,  and 
putting  his  head  between  hers  and  the  letter.  "  I  hope  he  's 
married ;  but  I  'm  afraid  he  is  not  —  hey  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  read  through  your  head ! "  said  Bertha, 
giving  it  a  thump  that  sounded  mellow  and  started  him 
to  his  feet. 

It  was  a  long,  familiar,  affectionate  letter,  full  of  the  fra- 
grance of  other  days,  and  wholly  rejuvenated  the  reader's 
life. 

Percy  Ormund  was  still  unmarried  —  a  bachelor  of 
thirty -four.  He  had  never  forgotten  the  brown  eyes  of 
the  little  girl  he  had  met  under  the  moss-covered  roof  of  the 
low  brown  house  with  the  long  piazza,  fifteen  years  ago  !  Her 
memory  had  followed  him  down  the  years,  as  his  had  her. 
He  had  travelled  five  years  after  Mr.  Belmont's  negative 
reply  to  his  proposition ;  and  Time  wove  a  thick  web  of  dark- 
ness between  them.  He  had  learned  her  existence  and  local- 
ity through  her  writings,  and  this  letter  was  the  result. 

"I  wish  he  'd  kept  it  to  himself,  then  ! "  said  Claude,  with 
a  pout,  as  he  glanced  at  Bertha's  bright  and  burning  face. 

"What  for?" 

"  Because  I  see  which  way  the  compass  points  now  ;  and 
the  wind  sets  fair  for  both  ships.  He  wonders  that  you  are 
not  married,  and  wants  to  know  the  why  and  wherefore.  I 
can  see  through  this  letter  —  it 's  just  as  clear  as  mud  !  " 

"Don't  imitate  somebody's  example,  and  go  too  'fast'," 
was  our  heroine's  advice,  with  mirthful  eyes.  "But  I 
thought  you  liked  him?  " 

"  So  I  do,  more  than  any  other  man  outside  of  home ;  but 
I  don't  want  you  to  marry  any  one  —  that 's  all !  " 


281 

"  Just  wait  till  I  have  a  chance  to  'slip  through' !  "  ex- 
claimed Bertha,  trying  to  hide  her  fluttering  heart  under  a 
gay  mask. 

"  Oh,  I  see  which  way  that  road  leads ! "  said  Claude, 
with  a  half  smiling  grunt,  as  he  looked  at  his  sister's  red 
cheeks,  and  twisted  his  mouth  at  his  amused  father;  — 
"straight  down  fifteen  years,  and  breaks  off  in  the  low  brown 
house  with  the  long  piazza  —  hum  !  " 

"  And  if  you  'd  let  me  alone,  those  fifteen  years  might  not 
lie  so  dark  between,"  she  answered,  mournfully. 

"  Heigho !  You  '11  own  up,  then  ?  Clear  beat,  and  full 
surrender,  eh?" 

"I  shan't  make  any  confession  without  a  priest,"  said 
Bertha,  with  a  face  that  spoke  louder  than  language. 
Claude  frowned,  and  winked  at  his  father. 
"  Well,  hang  me,  if  I  suspected  the  boy's  intention,  or  any- 
body else's  feelings,  or  I  would  have  taken  the  youngster 
back,  and  had  the  business  fixed  right !  He  was  a  fine 
young  fellow— I  liked  him.  Why  the  deuce  didn't  you 
speak  up  for  the  boy?"  said  Mr.  Belmont,  with  twinkling 
eyes. 

"Me?"  exclaimed  Bertha,  springing  to  her  feet,  spasmo- 
dically. She  was  gone  from  their  presence  right  suddenly. 
"  Well,  that  I  call  romance  in  real  life,"  said  Mr.  Bel- 
mont, looking  very  much  pleased,  as  he  ran  his  fingers 
through  his  hair ;  "  I  see  how  the  land  lies  with  her  —  she 
can't  hide  it !  " 

"  That 's  clear  as  spring  water,"  returned  Claude,  "  and 
nobody  ever  suspected  her!  And  now,  after  all  she  has 
refused,  she  '11  take  him  when  he  offers,  and  our  home  will 
be  a  tripod  again  !  I  like  the  man  well,  but  I  don't  relish 
the  thought  of  his  stealing  sister  away.  I  know  what  home 
is  without  her ! "  and  exercised  Claude  kicked  the  carpet 
with  his  heel  as  he  walked  the  floor. 
24* 


282         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  Well,  I  shan't  say  a  word  about  it,  pro  or  con,"  re- 
sponded the  old  man,  spitting  lustily  through  the  window, 
and  blackening  the  gravel  in  the  yard-walk;  "and  I  advise 
you  to  keep  out  of  another  scrape.  Bertha 's  sensible  enough 
to  choose  for  herself,  and  strong  enough  to  walk  without 
support.  I  guess  they  '11  fix  it  right  to  suit  all  hands  ;  and 
it 's  no  use  to  flinch  before  the  fire  gets  hot.  I  say,  let  'em 
alone.     Such  constancy  merits  reward." 

"  I  don't  believe  she  '11  be  justifiable  by  law  in  marrying 
again  in  her  present  situation,"  exclaimed  Claude,  catching 
at  this  straw.  "I  know'nothing  about  the  law  of  divorce 
here,  but  under  the  law  of  New  York  he  is  illegally  mar- 
ried ;  I  know  that.  And  though  sis  is  free  from  his  lawful 
power,  I  don't  see  how  she  can  marry  legally.  I  hope  she  's 
hemmed  in,  by  George!"  ejaculated  Claude,  drawing  up 
one  foot,  and  keeping  it  suspended  in  the  air  a  moment, 
under  the  influence  of  this  fresh  hope. 

"  I  'd  rather  she  'd  wed  Percy  than  any  other  man,  if  he 
would  n't  take  her  away,"  said  the  loving  mother. 

"That 'sit!  There's  where  the  shoe  pinches,  don't  you 
see  ?  I  like  the  man  well  enough  to  have  him  for  a  bro- 
ther ;  and  if  he  '11  make  a  bargain  to  suit  me,  I  won't  say 
another  word  in  opposition:  for  if  he's  the  same  Percy  I 
knew  fifteen  years  ago,  he'll  stick  to  his  bargain.  Well, 
we  '11  let  matters  work  quietly  a  while,  and  see  how  the  new 
suit  fits,  before  we  grumble  at  the  pattern,  that 's  all." 

And  so  it  was  decided. 

When  Bertha  escaped  from  the  parlor,  like  a  frightened 
bird,  she  sprang  up  the  stairs  and  into  her  quiet  chamber^ 
turning  the  bolt  after  her.  She  was  safe  now  from  all  pry- 
ing eyes  and  teasing  tongues,  and  a  broad  smile  of  heart- 
sunshine  streamed  from  the  fair  face  that  shone  from  the 
mirror-surface,  as  she  stopped  mechanically  before  it — such 
a  smile  as  had  never  lighted  up  that  lovely  face  before  in 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  283 

all  the  past.  Bertha  thought  she  saw  some  beauty  iu  that 
beaming  countenance  now;  and,  indeed,  the  whole  earth 
seemed  full  of  beauty  and  bloom  to  our  happy-hearted  heroine. 

After  all  the  black  clouds  and  beating  storms  that  had 
blighted  her  young  life,  she  had  come  forth  from  the  gloomy 
shadows  of  fate  and  stood  in  the  bright  sunshine  of  fortune. 
Weeping  she  had  endured  for  a  night  —  a  long  night  of 
fifteen  weary  years!  —  but  joy  had  come  in  the  morning  of 
a  new  and  glorious  hope. 

She  felt  confident  of  the  design  of  Percy  Ormund ;  it 
was  a  felt  fact  without  tangible  words.  She  knew  she  was 
loved  by  the  only  heart  she  had  ever  cared  to  win,  and  her 
restless  spirit — that  had  wandered  the  weary  way  of  life 
tired  and  lone  so  long  —  folded  up  its  pilgrim  feet  and  sank 
down  to  rest  at  last,  in  a  sweet  and  sun-bright  home. 

And  yet  not  quite  at  rest,  for  the  awaking  from  grief  to 
gladness  was  so  sudden  and  surprising,  that  the  sweet  shock 
quivered  along  the  delicate  wires  of  her  frail  being,  and 
sent  a  telegram  to  the  sighing  soul,  of  "Hope  resurrected/' 
that  burdened  it  a  while  with  great  joy! 

She  could  not  sit  quietly,  and  her  tiny  feet  wandered  over 
the  carpet,  while  her  thoughts  ran  wild  through  the  wilder- 
ness of  departed  days.  Bertha  did  not  look  forward  —  she 
did  not  reach  after  the  To-Come ;  the  rivulet  of  her  dreams 
ran  along  the  wayside  of  the  past,  and  washed  the  dust  of 
years  from  the  green  things  that  were  gone. 

She  saw  a  Providence  in  all  that  had  bruised  and  blighted 
in  the  long  weary  journey  of  her  fate-shadowed  life. 

But  for  her  sufferings,  she  might  not  have  turned  from 
the  vanities  of  the  world,  and  been  "saved  by  grace;"  she 
might  have  gone  down  a  blossom-bordered  way  without 
turning  her  worldly  eyes  to  the  stars,  and  fallen  into  the 
dark  waves  of  Jordan,  with  no  sustaining  hand  to  guide  her 
fearlessly  through. 


284 

But  for  her  matrimonial  misfortunes,  she  would  not  have 
"learned  in  suffering  what  she  taught  in  song";  and  but  for 
her  songs,  she  would  not  have  been  heard  and  found  by 
Percy  Ormund,  in  all  human  probability. 

Bertha  said  softly,  "  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,  His 
wonders  to  perform."  She  knelt  down  at  the  bedside,  and 
asked  Him  who  had  brought  her  through  the  years  "out  of 
great  tribulation,"  to  forgive  her  past  repinings  and  ingrat- 
itude, and  strengthen  her  heart  to  walk  without  fainting 
through  all  the  future. 

Ah,  Bertha  did  not  see  the  black  wings  that  brooded  over 
that  future,  or  her  glad  and  grateful  soul  would  have  sunk 
down  fainting  then !  She  did  not  look  through  the  golden 
light  of  the  present,  and  see  the  dark-browed  Fate  that  had 
followed  her  along  the  path  of  the  by-gone,  frowning  just 
beyond  the  shining  borders  of  a  short  To-day. 

"  Beloved,  think  it  not  strange  the  fiery  trial  that  is  to 
try  you,  as  though  some  strange  thing  happened  unto  you," 
was  not  in  all  the  thoughts  of  our  happy-hearted  heroine. 

Bertha  fancied  the  "fiery  trial"  was  held  in  the  past, 
and  the  great  Arbiter  of  human  destiny  had  given  her  a 
full  discharge  from  the  further  persecutions  of  grim-faced 
Fate. 

Percy  Ormund's  design  in  addressing  our  heroine  by  let- 
ter, after  the  lapse  of  fifteen  years,  was  soon  made  manifest 
by  frequent  communications  and  unequivocal  words. 

Bertha  told  him  all,  —  her  past  history  and  present  situa- 
tion,—  foreseeing  his  purpose  in  renewing  the  friendship  of 
early  youth ;  and  ere  the  glorious  summer  was  ended,  and  the 
gold  and  crimson  of  autumn  came,  "  Bertha  the  Beauty  " 
was  the  betrothed  bride  of  her  first  and  only  love. 

Bluer  looked  the  blue  skies,  and  greener  glittered  the 
green  earth  to  the  beaming  eyes  of  our  beautiful  heroine,  as 
the  bright  days  glided  by,  festooned  with  flowers  from  the 


BERTH  A,    THE    BEAUTY.  285 

gay  garden  of  a  newly-blooming  heart,  watered  wTith  the 
cool  dew  of  reciprocal  love. 

But  ere  the  autumn  was  ended,  the  black  wings  of  her 
Fate  were  stretched  wide  above  her  hapless  head,  and  the 
great  light  that  had  glowed  in  her  face  a  little  while,  dropped 
silently  away  into  sombre  shadows. 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 


CONSCIENTIOUS   SCRUPLES. — CLAUDE   BELMONT  S 
CONFESSION. 

I  SAY,  sis,  how  does  the  suit  progress  ?  "  said  gay  Claude, 
one  day,  after  secretly  watching  Bertha's  sober  face. 

"  Finely,"  she  said,  with  a  rising  blush. 

"Engaged  yet,  eh?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  —  with  a  sickly  smile. 

"  Hey  ?  "  Claude  sprang  up  spontaneously,  but  sat  down 
immediately,  trying  to  look  indifferent  and  cool.  "  When 
is  Percy  coming  up  ?  " 

"  Next  spring." 

"  Well,  that 's  a  decent  length  of  time.  I  was  fearful 
he  'd  hurry  matters.  Do  you  know  it  will  be  necessary  for 
you  to  obtain  a  divorce  before  you  can  legally  marry  ?  " 

"  I  do,  now." 

"  How  did  you  find  it  out,  you  close  head  ? " 

"  From  my  pastor." 

"  You  did  ?     Been  consulting  him  ?  —  he  's  no  lawyer." 

"  No ;  but  he  's  something  better ;  and,  besides,  he  has 
learned  the  law  on  that  point." 

"Ahem!"  Claude  lay  back  and  whistled  a  while,  with 
both    hands   grasping   his  coat-collar,   and    an   indefinable 


286  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

glitter  in  his  dark  eyes.  "  You  '11  have  to  apply  immedi- 
ately, to  be  ready  by  spring  —  takes  some  time  to  settle  such 
business." 

He  glanced  at  her  serious  face  sideways. 

"  I  shall  never  marry  while  Horace  Stanhope  lives,  Bud," 
she  said,  solemnly. 

"  Hey  ? "  His  chair  came  forward  with  a  force  that  made 
the  floor  ring,  and  his  eyes  widened  and  snapped  wonder- 
fully. "What  the  deuce  is  up  now?  Why  do  you  back 
out?" 

"It  is  written,  'She  that  putteth  away  her  husband,  and 
marrieth  again,'  violates  the  seventh  commandment.  'The 
wife  is  bound  by  the  law  so  long  as  her  husband  liveth,' 
and  not  until  she  is  divorced.  Also,  'Let  not  the  wife  depart 
from  her  husband ;  but  and  if  she  depart,  let  her  remain 
unmarried.'  Is  not  that  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood  by 
any  one  who  desires  to  do  right  ? " 

"  Hallelujah  !  "  shotted  Claude,  throwing  his  head  back 
and  his  heels  up.  "  That 's  the  best  sermon  I  ever  heard  in 
my  life !  Any  more  of  the  same  sort,  sis  ?  I  want  you 
pinned  tight  in  a  scriptural  sheet,  so  's  to  leave  no  loop-hole 
for  conscience  to  creep  out  at  a  pinch  —  hey  ? " 

"  You  selfish  thing !  "  said  Bertha,  smiling  in  spite  of  her- 
self;  "just  wait  till  you're  placed  in  my  position,  and  then 
you  '11  learn  sympathy." 

"  Hurt  you  much  ?  "  laughed  Claude,  dipping  down,  and 
diving  into  her  eyes.     "  So  you  won't  apply  next  court  ?  " 

"  Never  !  "        ■ 

"  Does  Percy  know  it  ?  " 

"  Percy  thinks  it 's  right." 

"  Oh,  ho !  And  if  he  had  n't,  he  might  have  convinced 
you  —  hey  ?  " 

"  If  he  had  n't,  it  would  not  have  been  wrong." 

"  Jiminy  !  is  that  your  faith  ?     How  does  he  take  it  ?  " 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  287 

"Like  St.  Peter  at  the  cross  —  as  a  good  Christian  bears 
a  burden." 

"Bravo!  Well,  that's  just  the  opinion  I  had  formed  of 
the  man,  and  I've  been  wondering -how  the  matter  would 
end,  though  I  kept  mum.  I  know  most  people  would  have 
cleared  that  fence  at  one  bound ;  but  I  thought  a  true 
Christian's  garment  would  be  pretty  apt  to  get  hitched  on 
the  upper  rail.  I  know  it 's  all  right  and  fair,  as  the  world 
goes,  —  thousands  have  done  the  deed,  from  the  beginning 
of  the  world  till  now,  —  but  whoever  examines  the  root  of 
the  matter  from  an  earnest  desire  to  walk  in  the  'straight 
and  narrow  way,'  must  see  it  is  morally  wrong  and  socially 
corrupt.  In  my  opinion,  if  such  marriages  were  prohibited 
by  law,  there  would  be  fewer  divorces  in  the  land.  'So  long 
as  you  both  shall  live '  —  to  which  one  assents  at  the  bridal 
altar  —  cannot  be  expunged  by  a  human  hand ;  it 's  engraved 
on  the  tablet  of  eternity.  I  would  n't  wed  in  your  situa- 
tion, or  marry  a  divorced  wife,  however  beautiful  and  good 
and  dear  she  might  be;  but  I'd  wait  for  her  till  the  last 
bell  sounded  for  prayers,  if  I  loved  her  as  I  think  somebody 
does  you,  from  the  number  of  letters  that  pass !  I  should 
think  that  fellow  would  find  something  else  to  do,  in  his 
position,  besides  courting  every  day,  at  such  a  distance ! " 
said  Claude,  peeping  roguishly  under  at  Bertha's  blooming 
face. 

"  Percy  will  wait,"  she  said,  softly. 

"  And  you  will  wait  —  eh  ?  " 

"I  will." 

"  And  if  that  rascal  never  dies  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"  I  am  not  waiting  for  him  to  die,"  she  said,  hastily,  with 
a  little  shiver.  "  I  hope  he  will  live  until  he 's  prepared  for 
a  brighter  and  better  world  than  this." 

"  You  wish  him  a  long  life,  then  ?  Dog  if  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  '11  be  the  last  man  on  this  terrestrial  sphere,  if  the 


288         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Lord  grants  him  that  lease !  I  'm  afraid  his  conscience  is 
seared  ;  he  's  married  illegally  !  " 

"I  know  that  now;  but  I  was  not  aware  of  the  fact 
when  —  " 

"  When  what  ?  "  queried  Claude,  watching  her  crimsoning 
cheek  at  right-angles. 

"  When  I  entered  into  a  second  engagement." 

"You  might  prosecute  the  rascal  for  bigamy,"  said  Claude, 
with  twinkling  eyes. 

"  No,  no  !  "  exclaimed  our  heroine,  in  a  nutter.  "  I  am 
not  his  wife  !  " 

"Oh,  ho  !  that  hurts,  does  it?  No,  thank  the  Lord,  he's 
got  no  right  to  you,  sis ;  but  you  could  get  the  fellow  into 
trouble,  if  you  wished." 

"I  shan't  trouble  him,  then,  —  he's  safe,  so  far  as  I'm 
concerned." 

"  Well,  what  are  you  waiting  for,  if  you  don't  want  the 
fellow  to  die?" 

"  God's  will,  and  a  happier  world  !  "  said  Bertha,  bravely, 
looking  firmly  into  his  sober  eyes.  "  I  never  thought  seri- 
ously on  this  subject,  until  Percy  waked  me  from  dream- 
ing," she  continued,  smiling  faintly,  "  and  —  " 

"  And  if  Percy  should  insist  now,  you  'd  get  a  divorce, 
hey?" 

"Never  !  I  thought  I  was  wholly  free,  and  the  example 
of  thousands,  including  ministers  of  the  gospel,  justified  me 
in  marrying  again.  I  never  analyzed  the  flower  and  found 
it  a  poisonous  plant.  I  always  found  it  a  great  convenience 
in  softening  refusals  to  others,  to  hint  at  my  position,  and 
decline  to  be  convinced  by  argument.  I  was  willing  to  be 
sceptical  then,  but  now  it  hurts  !  " 

"  Where  at?"  inquired  Claude,  peeping  under  playfully. 

"  Here ! "  said  Bertha,  tapping  one  small  finger  quickly 
over  her  heart,  and  coloring  deeply. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         289 

Ail  expression  of  pain  dwelt  in  the  brother's  dark  eyes,  a 
moment ;  then  he  said,  with  apparent  lightness : 

"  Oh,  it  '11  all  come  right,  sis ;  it  won't  last  long ;  no 
cause  for  feeling  troubled.     Percy  is  safe,  and  you  —  " 

"  It  is  n't  that !  "  she  interrupted.  "  I  felt  free  before,  but 
now  I  feel  smothered,  caged.  I  seem  to  have  a  great  net 
over  me  that  I  can't  shake  off."  And  Bertha  wriggled  her 
slender  shoulders  impulsively,  with  a  contracted  brow. 

"  I  can  shake  it  off  mighty  easy,  I  '11  bet ! "  said  Claude, 
catching  her  around  the  waist  and  tossing  her  towards  the 
ceiling  several  times. 

"  Gone,  ain't  it,  hey  ?  "  he  asked,  mischievously,  as  he  set 
her  down. 

"  No,  and  never  will  be  by  human  agency !  Oh,  if  you 
had  n't  urged  me ! "  she  cried,  piteously,  dropping  her  face 
in  her  hands,  and  bursting  into  irrepressible  tears. 

Claude  Belmont,  the  jovial,  was  on  his  knees,  with  his 
arms  around  her,  in  an  instant. 

"  I  'm  sorry,  sis !  The  Lord  knows  I  wish  I  had  n't !  I 
wished  it  long  ago,  for  that  matter !  And  that 's  why  I  kept 
mum  now.  I  was  n't  going  to  get  my  fingers  burnt  again, 
'  I  swan' !  "  said  Claude,  trying  to  cheer  her  up,  with  affected 
gayety. 

"  If  you  did  n't  care  about  it,"  continued  Claude,  "  't  would 
suit  me  to  a  notch!  for  just  as  like  as  not,  Percy  wouldn't 
consent  to  let  you  live  here;  and  then  — " 

"  Yes,  he  would." 

"  Did  he  say  as  much  ?  " 

"  Yes.  It  was  all  settled.  He  would  have  consulted  my 
feelings." 

"  Bless  him  !  If  he  said  so,  he  'd  do  it.  I  always  liked 
the  man,  but  I  'd  like  it  a  little  better  if  you  loved  me  the 
best.  You  see  I  'm  a  bit  jealous  —  got  greenish  eyes  too  — 
hey  ? " 

25  T 


290         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  You  selfish  fellow,  you  know  I  love  you,  like  all  the 
world ! " 

u  Over  the  left,  you  know  !  Want  to  run  off  with  that 
scamp,  and  leave  me  to  eat  dirt,  when  he  don't  love  you 
half  as  well  as  I  do ! "  said  Claude,  turning  up  his  nose,  and 
stretching  his  mouth  and  eyes  ludicrously. 

Bertha  laughed  irresistibly,  with  great  tears  glittering  in 
her  eyes. 

"  Here  I  am,  an  old  bach  of  twenty-seven,  and  don't  care 
a  snap  for  the  girls,  '  or  auy  other  man,'  just  because  I  've 
got  a  naughty  little  sis  that  I  like  better !  'r  said  Claude, 
kissing  both  wet  eyes  and  small  mouth  with  loud  smacks ; 
"  and  I  shan't  marry  either,  so  long  as  that  same  little  sis 
is  out  of  other  fellows'  claws,  and  she  don't  care  enough  for 
me  to  keep  from  feeling  hurt  because  she  cau't  run  off  with- 
out breaking  the  Decalogue  all  to  smash  !  There  —  there  ; 
don't  cry  any  more  ! "  he  said,  soothingly,  as  Bertha's  lips 
trembled  again.  "Percy  will  be  faithful,  I  know,  and  if 
it 's  the  Lord's  will  you  're  waiting  for,  I  think  He  '11  reward 
you  after  a  while.     And  if  that  rascal  never  dies  —  " 

"  There  's  '  light  beyond  the  clouds,' "  said  Bertha,  bravely. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  believe  you  've  got  grace  enough  in  this 
little  body,  not  to  break  your  heart  for  what  Providence 
decrees.  I"  should  collapse  immediately,  to  see  you  moping 
around  in  'a  green  and  yellow  melancholy.'  And  then 
you  've  got  somebody  to  love  besides  me,  you  know,"  said 
Claude,  squeezing  her  around  the  waist  with  both  arms ; 
"  and  goodness  knows,  you've  had  more  than  your  share  of 
affection  in  this  world  already.  You  won't  feel  hurt  about 
it  any  more  ?  —  keep  a  stiff  upper  lip,  and  just  wait  pa- 
tiently, and  see  what  the  will  of  the  Lord  is  —  hey  ?  " 

"  I  will  —  I  will !  "  said  Bertha,  gulping  down  something 
that  went  hard,  and  kissing  his  loving  mouth  through  his 
moustache,  with  her  arms  clinging  around  his  neck. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  291 

"  Bravo  !  I  thought  you'd  come  out  all  right !  I  know 
something  about  the  mechanism  of  this  little  machine," 
tapping  her  shoulder  lightly  ;  "  mighty  small  and  frail  to 
look  at,  but  strong  as  fury  when  it  runs  against  a  snag  — 
I  swan!"  said  Claude,  bounding  up,  and  going  out  with  a 
gay  whistle. 

Claude  Belmont  bore  the  reputation  of  being  "the  most 
devoted  brother  the  sun  ever  shone  on  ; "  and  the  world  was 
right.  Many  a  bright  eye  had  vainly  tried  to  wing  an 
arrow  to  his  heart ;  but  Claude  was  invulnerable.  And 
yet  the  archers  still  bent  their  bows.  Would  he  ever  be 
struck?  Bertha  wondered,  and  hoped  he  would  not,  until 
after  her  engagement  to  Percy  Ormund.  Now  the  secret  was 
betrayed,  and  Bertha  cried  over  it  when  Claude  could  not 
see  the  tears. 

And  Claude  Belmont,  the  jovial,  went  up  to  his  room, 
whistling ;  but  when  there,  the  gay  mask  fell  off,  and  he 
wept  secret  drops  of  sympathy  for  his  sister's  sufferings. 
He  knew  how  she  was  pained  by  her  strong  but  ineffectual 
efforts  to  conceal  her  feelings  ;  and  the  brother's  loving 
heart  grieved  for  her  in  secret,  and  ran  over  with  seeming 
sunshine,  when  Bertha  was  by  to  catch  the  beams ! 

Percy  Ormund  did  not  "  come  up  next  spring,"  as  Ber- 
tha had  said,  for  the  hoarse  thunder  of  War  was  rumbling 
fearfully  through  the  land,  and  Percy  was  captain  of  a 
company  of  brave  volunteers  preparing  for  the  emergency. 


292  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 


CLAUDE. 

IT  was  a  terrible  day  when  the  first  "invader  of  the  sa- 
cred soil "  fell,  and  Colonel  Ellsworth  lay  dead  beneath 
the  Confederate  flag,  at  the  Marshall  House,  and  Jackson, 
his  destroyer,  fell,  shot  and  brutally  mangled  by  the  furious 
and  savage  Zouaves. 

Bertha  sprang  from  her  couch  of  dreams  —  awakened  by 
the  unusual  souud  without  —  and  peered  through  the  blinds. 

"What  a  scene !  Hundreds  of  foreign-looking  "  boys  in 
blue,"  with  bayonets  glittering  in  the  early  May  morning 
light,  —  a  white  flag  shivering  on  a  short  staff,  —  innumerable 
black  faces,  with  wide  mouths  stretched  from  ear  to  ear,  and 
white  eyes  dancing  with  gladness  all  around,  and  the  Star- 
spangled  Banner  waving  over  all,  with  the  kettle-drum  and 
fife  racking  the  beaten  air. 

Bertha  looked  at  the  glittering  steel,  and  thought,  with  a 
shiver,  "  Percy  may  meet  them  !  " 

She  made  a  hasty  toilet,  and  descended  to  the  hall. 

"Be  jabers,  an'  they  won't  hurt  ye — you  needn't  be 
afraid,  young  leddy,"  said  Paddy,  eying  our  heroine  as 
she  stood  upon  the  street-step  and  looked  after  the  marching 
soldiers. 

Bertha  judged  her  countenance  had  awakened  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  kind-hearted  Irishman  who  looked  at  her  so 
pityingly  and  essayed  to  comfort  the  little  stranger,  and  she 
smiled  faintly. 

"Be  me  sowl,  an'  there  ain't  no  danger  in  'em  —  faith,  an' 
it's  meself  that  says  it  —  arrah  !  "  said  Pat,  his  admiring 
eyes  devouring  her  fair  face,  with  the  great  shadow  over  it. 


BERTHA 


BEAUTY.  293 


"Thank  you;  I  'm  not  afraid,"  said  Bertha,  as  she  turned 
away.  "  For  myself"  she  added,  as  she  closed  the  hall-door 
behind  her ;  "  but,  oh,  for  him  !  for  him  !  " 

But  our  heroine  was  terribly  afraid  for  more  than  Percy 
Orniund  before  the  shades  of  night  closed  around ;  for  rumor 
ran  that  the  desperate  Zouaves  would  ransack  and  burn  the 
town  ere  the  light  of  another  morning,  in  revenge  for  their 
colonel's  death.  But  the  morning  dawned,  after  a  long, 
weary  night,  and  "  one  woe  was  past "  for  our  heroine,  and 
the  town  at  large. 

But  one  fear  followed  fast  upon  the  heels  of  a  departed 
one  during  that  long,  struggling,  and  bloody  period,  "  the 
War  for  the  Union,"  and  Bertha  said  to  Claude  one  day : 

"  Won't  you  have  to  go,  now  that  we  are  within  the  lines?" 

"  Reckon  not,"  caressing  his  upper  lip  ;  "shan't  till  I  'm 
forced — certing-le!  I 'm  a  non-combatant  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. Nobody  left  to  take  care  of  you  —  don't  you 
see  ?  I  was  always  opposed  to  secession  —  I  see  the  end  from 
the  beginning  —  and  I  have  n't  a  doubt  but  the  leaders  will 
acknowledge  their  folly  when  the  war  is  over,  if  they  have 
any  breath  left ;  I  '11  confess  it  for  them  in  advance,  and 
take  the  responsibility.  But  I  shan't  fight  them  for  it,  if  I 
know  myself,  and  I  think  I  do,  that  deep.  Pretty-looking 
fellow  I  should  be  to  pop  Percy  over!"  said  Claude,  stretch- 
ing his  eyes  soberly. 

"  Oh,  don't,  please !  " 

"Don't  please?  Well,  that's  what  I  like  to  do;  but  I 
won't,  if  you  say  so.  No,  no ;  blood  is  thicker  than  water, 
and  friendship  something  more  than  a  name;  and  I  shan't 
volunteer  to  fight  my  own  people,  if  I  do  think  and  know 
they  are  wrong — foolishly  wrong,  for  they  are  destroying 
themselves,  like  Ephraim.  They  '11  see  it  after  a  while, 
when  it 's  too  late,  and  perceive  how  vain  their  hopes  now 
are  of  foreign  aid.  England  and  France  won't  interfere 
25* 


294  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

with  our  domestic  difficulty,  unless  they  can  come  in  and 
capture  the  whole  household  —  depend  upon  that  —  and  their 
aid  is  the  sole  dependence  of  the  South.  John  Bull  and 
Monsieur  Francais  are  not  very  disinterested  animals,  and 
unless  they  can  pick  the  golden  fleece,  they  '11  keep  their 
hands  off,  I  '11  bet  ye  !  If  the  North  and  South  will  just 
turn  in  and  swallow  each  other,  then  old  Johnny  and  Frog- 
eater  will  pounce  down  and  make  our  eagle  squeal  —  be 
jabers  !  "  said  Claude,  rubbing  his  head  as  though  he  'd  got 
a  blow.  "  I  'm  a  Union  man  because  I  love  the  South,  and 
I  'd  be  shot  down  before  I  'd  fire  a  gun  at  my  old  home. 
But  if  foreign  powers  interfere  with  old  Uncle  Sam,  I 
would  n't  mind  giving  'em  a  dig  !  "  added  Claujde,  looking 
daggers  at  a  foreign  foe  and  turning  up  his  nose  at  Bertha. 

"  And  if  you  went,  I  'd  go  too  —  that 's  certain." 

"Put  on  jacket  and  cap,  and  shoulder  your  musket  — 
hey  ?  "  inquired  the  young  man,  dropping  down  on  the  car- 
pet, and  laying  his  head  back  upon  her  arm. 

"I  'd  follow  as  hospital  nurse,  like  those  women  who  go 
draggling  through  the  mud  after  every  regiment  that  comes 
in — (for  it  rains  whenever  there  's  a  military  movement)  — 
poor  things ! " 

"  Then  what  a  lucky  hap  it  was  that  you  and  Percy 
didn't  get  spliced  last  spring;  for  the  rebel  talked  square 
up  for  Southern  independence,  in  that  kiss-me-quick  letter 
he  smuggled  through  the  lines  ;  and  while  there  's  a  Fed- 
eral bayonet  in  the  field,  and  he  's  afloat,  that  Confederate 
captain  of  volunteers  will  fight  —  ha !  ha !  Should  n't  won- 
der a  bit  if  the  '  Grayback '  climbed  clear  up  the  ladder  of 
distinction  before  the  war  ends,  and  comes  bobbing  around 
here  after  a  while  as  General  Ormund,  C.  S.  A.  —  whew!" 
said  Claude,  pulling  her  face  down  to  his  with  both  hands. 

"  If  he  lives  he  '11  distinguish  himself,  no  doubt,"  replied 
Bertha,  softly.         * 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  295 

"Oh,  he  '11  live  through  it  all,  I  feel  it  in  ray  bones  — 
may  get  scratched  just  enough  to  be  brought  up  to  the 
hospital  here  for  you  to  nurse  —  going  to  look  for  him  after 
every  big  battle  —  hey  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  I  '11  find  him,  if  he 's  brought  here ;  or  any 
other  old-time  friend." 

"  Horace,  mayhap !  "  he  suggested,  with  a  twinkle  of  his 
upturned  eyes. 

Bertha  laughed  outright ;  the  idea  was  so  original  and 
preposterous.  Horace  Stanhope  go  to  the  war !  It  was  too 
much  for  her  to  think  of  without  a  risible  eruption. 

"  Seems  to  me,"  he  said,  holding  his  mouth  with  finger 
and  thumb,  "  you  have  n't  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  that 
fellow's  bravery  and  patriotism.  Like  as  not  he  '11  outstrip 
Kelley  and  McClelland,  and  lead  the  United  States  forces 
'on  to  Richmond'  yet!  Who  knows?"  said  Claude, 
scrambling  up  from  the  floor,  and  disappearing,  with  both 
hands  holding  his  sides. 

The  brother's  object  was  accomplished  ;  he  had  driven 
the  shadows  from  her  face  for  the  time. 


CHAPTER  L. 

AFTER   THE   BATTLE. — UNDER-GROUND   MAIL. 

THAT  awful  twenty-first  of  July,  1861  . 
Bertha  heard  the  heavy  cannon  booming  all  through 
that  solemn  Sabbath  from  the  distant  battle-field  of  Bull 
Run,  and  her  aching  heart  quivered  at  every  sound. 

"  Manassas  is  captured  —  the  rebels  are  whipped  —  their 
stronghold  is  taken  by  the  Yankees ! "  was  bruited  abroad 
as  the  night  closed  in. 


296  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

What  a  weight  the  human  heart  can  bear,  and  not  be 
broken  beneath  the  mighty  burden! 

Bertha  lay  and  tossed  to  and  fro,  now  starting  from  a 
frightful  dream  when  tired  nature  sank  away  through  sheer 
weariness ;  and  now  pressing  her  aching  eyes  deep  down  in 
the  pillow,  as  a  mental  vision  arose  before  them  until  the 
morning  light.  And  then  she  looked  forth  upon  a  scene 
that  beggars  all  description. 

Dirty,  ragged,  shoeless,  hatless,  tangle-haired,  swearing, 
hungry  -  looking  Union  soldiers,  without  arras,  lined  the 
side- walks  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  from  her  chamber- 
window  —  their  bare  feet  submerged  in  the  full  gutters,  and 
a  dismal  rain  beating  piteously  upon  their  much-abused 
uniforms.  Some  were  nibbling  "  hard  tac,"  with  occasional 
draughts  from  a  suspicious  -  looking  canteen ;  others  con- 
signed McDowell  to  uncomfortably  hot  quarters  for  a 
"  traitor;"  and  a  large  number  were  stretched  at  full  length, 
coiled  into  semicircles,  or  flat  of  their  backs,  with  knees 
and  noses  upturned  towards  the  watery  clouds,  upon  the 
muddy  pavement. 

Bertha  had  never  witnessed  such  a  scene  before,  and  her 
eyes  dilated  with  astonishment.  Had  those  miserable-look- 
ing "Yanks"  whipped  the  "  Rebs,"  and  taken  possession  of 
their  stronghold  ?  she  wondered.  If  they  had,  our  heroine 
thought  "  one  more  such  victory,  and  the  Government  was 
ruined!  "  They  certainly  had  been  "saved  as  by  fire"  ;  and 
Bertha  thought  their  raiment  bore  strong  evidence  of  having 
been  much  injured  by  wood! 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  asked  Bertha,  bounding  half 
dressed  into  the  breakfast-room,  with  eyes  round  and  rolling. 

"  Could  n't  find  a  good  place  to  sleep  at  Manassas,  and  the 
Rebs  poisoned  the  water ! "  said  Claude,  rubbing  the  side  of 
his  nose  soberly. 

"  Percy's  kind   heart   could  n't  accommodate  'em   with 


297 

lodgings  fit  for  soldiers,  and  sent  'em  back  to  town  for 
comfortable  quarters.  Beauregard's  and  Johnson's  families 
filled  all  the  vacancies  in  'Cousin  Sallie's'  hotel,  and  the 
old  lady  could  n't  take  in  strangers.  What  are  you  blinking 
about?"  asked  Claude,  puckering  up  his  mouth  as  though 
for  a  whistle. 

"  Why,  I  thought  the  Union  had  broken  the  back-bone 
of  the  Rebellion  yesterday,  and  it  would  n't  ever  be  able 
to  stand  alone  again  !  " 

"  So  did  '  we,  us,  and  company ' ;  but  it  turned  out  to  be 
only  a  spare  rib ;  and  Jo  Johnson,  the  rascal,  came  up  in 
the  nick  of  time  and  splintered  it,  and  doctored  the  patient 
until  it  got  strong  enough  to  engage  in  a  foot-race,  with  its 
old  master  Jeff  looking  on  for  amusement.  But  the  'gray- 
backs  '  could  n't  catch  the  '  blue  boys,'  —  they  beat  the 
Rebs  at  that  game.  They  left  'em  in  the  lurch  and  got  back 
home  safe  and  sound,  a  great  deal  lighter  than  they  left," 
said  Claude,  nodding  his  head  exultingly  at  Bertha,  over 
the  "  Yankee  trick "  played  on  the  Rebs  by  the  "  blue 
boys." 

"Where  are  you  going ?  — breakfast  is  ready!"  said 
Claude,  looking  after  her  with  a  long  face  and  laughable 
eyes,  as  Bertjia  went  out  with  one  hand  over  her  mouth  and 
the  other  pulling  at  her  curls. 

Mrs.  Belmont  and  Bertha  stood  at  the  window,  looking 
out  upon  the  wild  and  awful  scene. 

Squads  of  soldiers,  with  filthy  garments  and  tattered 
banners,  —  careworn  women  with  dirty  babies,  eating  beef 
and  crackers  on  the  side-walk  with  men  who  had  lost  all 
the  seeming  of  soldiers,  saving  the  language,  —  a  few  scat- 
tering muskets,  leaning  against  trees,  looking  as  though 
they  had  "  fought  their  last  battle,"—  and  the  restless  rain 
drizzling  over  all. 

"  Jewilikins  !  ain't  she  a  beauty  ?  "  said  a  wide-eyed  sol- 


298  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY 


dier,  looking  back  over  his  shoulder  at  Bertha,  who  had 
not  before  observed  him. 

"Beats  creation  all  to  flinders!  "  exclaimed  his  brother  in 
arms,  kissing  his  hand  towards  the  window  that  framed  the 
fair  face. 

Bertha  closed  the  shutters. 

"  Tell  yeou  what,  old  lady,"  cried  a  boy  in  blue  to  a  fe- 
male of  African  descent  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street, 
"  we  Yanks  got  licked  like  blazes  this  bout  —  don't  deny  it. 

D my  eyes,  if  them  Rebs  don't  fight  like  h !  whoop ! 

Had  a  big  fight  and  a  long  slide,  and  no  whiskey  tew  lean  on 
— ke-oop  !  Oh,  good  Goddle-mity,  a-i-n-t  I  glad  I  'm  a-livin' 
now ! " 

And  the  brave  soldier  lifted  one  foot  clear  of  the  pave- 
ment, and  bent  so  far  backward,  in  hug-himself  delight  for 
being  still  in  the  flesh  after  his  "long  slide"  from  a  "big 
fight,"  that  Bertha  listened  to  hear  his  head  bump  upon  the 
law  of  gravitation ! 

But  the  Union  ship,  well  laden  with  corn  and  rye,  up- 
righted  with  a  shiver  and  jerk,  and  dived  forward  with  a 
broad  leaning  towards  both  sides  of  the  street,  as  it  scudded 
under  bare  poles. 

"  There  's  patriotism  for  you,"  said  Bertha,  shutting  her 
mouth  tight  and  turning  to  her  mother. 

"  How  it  reels !  "  replied  Mrs.  Belmont,  looking  after  the 
bold  soldier  just  from  the  battle,  with  elevated  eyebrows  and 
slightly  parted  lips. 

"  I  reckon  he  did  n't  do  much  fighting,"  said  our  heroine, 
soberly. 

"  But  he 's  good  on  a  '  long  slide,'  "  laughed  the  mother, 
as  the  Federal  craft  went  down  on  the  causeway  under  the 
pressure  of  too  much  top-sail  and  mucilaginous  under-current. 

"  Say,  sis,  Percy 's  coming  in  to-night,"  cried  Claude,  pop- 
ping his  head  into  the  parlor,  with  rueful  visage. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         299 

"  What 's  the  rumor  now  ?  " 

"  Why,  McDowell  and  his  whole  army  has  skedaddled, 
and  the  Confeds  are  after  Uncle  Sam's  head,  and  the  Yan- 
kees say  Jeff  Davis  may  play  foot-ball  with  it  to-morrow,  if 
he  follows  up  his  victory.  The  soldiers  are  marching  out 
to  defend  the  town  to  the  best  of  their  demoralized  ability, 
and  there  's  g-r-e-a-t  excitement  in  the  city,"  said  Claude, 
blearing  his  great  black  eyes  at  Bertha. 

"  I  reckon  he  won't  stay  long  if  he  comes  now,"  she  re- 
turned, dryly. 

"  Should  n't  wonder.  Those  big  dogs  of  war  down  there 
on  the  Potomac  will  bark  loud  if  that  'glorious  Beauregard' 
wakes  'em  from  their  slumber;  and  the  mischief  of  it  is 
they  won't  mind  where  they  bite.  Just  as  like  as  not  they'll 
give  us  the  hydrophobia  before  that  Captain  Ormund  can 
take  their  heads  off  and  make  'em  '  die  in  Dixie ! ' "  said 
Claude,  dropping  down  at  full  length  upon  the  sofa,  and 
shutting  his  eyes  tight,  with  a  loud  snore.  "  Moreover,"  he 
continued,  waking  up  suddenly,  "  the  general  in  command 
here  is  calling  upon  the  Union  citizens  to  stand  to  arms  and 
assist  the  soldiers  in  keeping  the  Rebels  back.  I  reckon  I  '11 
have  to  go  and  take  a  pop  at  Percy  at  last,"  with  a  long  face 
and  lonesome  groan.  "  What  are  you  laughing  about? "  to 
Bertha,  in  evident  surprise. 

"  You  won't  have  the  privilege  of  popping  at  Percy  to- 
night, or  ever,  near  the  limits  of  this  corporation." 

"How  do  you  know  —  hey?  "  said  Claude,  rising  upon  his 
elbow,  and  staring  at  her  with  full  eyes. 

"  The  Confederacy  won't  reach  the  capital  through  this 
city,  if  it  ever  does,"  returned  our  heroine,  mysteriously. 

"I  want  tew  know!  dew  tell!"  said  Claude,  putting  up  his 
mouth  and  nose  as  though  he  snuffed  a  strange  scent  from 
afar.     "  Heard  from  the  captain  since  the  battle  ?  " 

Bertha's  curly  head  dipped  and  her  brown  eyes  danced. 


300         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  Jehu  !  right  side  up  with  care,  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  a  scratch ;  only  three  bullets  through  his  cap  and 
a  sabre-cut  across  his  coat-sleeve,"  answered  our  heroine, 
with  a  shiver. 

"  Jiminy !  Pretty  close  quarters  for  edged  tools  !  How 
the  deuce  did  that  letter  come  ?  " 

"  Underground  mail,"  said  Bertha,  laying  one  finger  on 
her  lip  and  looking  wonders  at  the  Union  brother. 

"  I  won't  tell  — '  spit  it  out ! '  "  said  Claude,  peeping  in- 
telligently into  her  bright  face. 

"  A  soldier  in  Federal  uniform  brought  it." 

"  Jim-i-ny  !  traitor  !  deserter !  —  off  with  his  head,  Buck- 
ingham !  "  And  Claude  flourished  his  arm,  as  though  act- 
ing upon  the  suggestion,  with  humorous  eyes. 

"  But  the  man  was  a  Southern  soldier,"  laughed  Bertha, 
"  and  only  came  in  to  see  his  friends.  He  asked  me  for  a 
drink  of  water,  and  when  the  glass  came  back  it  held  this 
letter,"  holding  it  up,  with  a  musical  ring  from  her  red 
mouth.  "  He 's  going  back  in  a  few  days,  and  take  an  an- 
swer to  this — Deo  volante!  " 

"  How  the  mischief  did  he  manage  it? " 

"  Easy  enough !  Donned  a  dead  soldier's  uniform ; 
Percy  sent  him  on  horseback  to  the  lines.  Then  he  was 
one  of  the  Union  stragglers  —  lost  all  but  his  life  —  and  got 
in  here  terribly  tired  with  running  through  the  woods  from 
desperate  Rebels,  you  know!  "  And  Bertha  laid  her  head 
back  upon  the  cushion,  and  half  screamed  with  delight  at 
the  mail-carrier's  cunning. 

"  Jerusalem  !  "  said  Claude,  falling  back  on  the  sofa  and 
hiding  his  face  a  moment,  while  his  whole  form  shook. 
"  Maybe  he  '11  get  back  safe,"  suggested  Claude,  looking  up 
with  a  remarkably  sober  face. 

"  Maybe  he  will,  and  not  walk  all  the  way  either." 

"I  reckon  he  won't  be  missed  from  his  regiment  here  when 


301 

he  leaves  with  the  mail,"  added  Claude,  bursting  into  an 
irresistible  horse-laugh.  "Well,  that  captain  beats  me; 
but  it 's  none  of  my  business,"  said  Claude,  going  off  with  a 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  stepping  high  at  each  stride. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

OLD   BROADBRIM   ENTERS   THE   LINES. 

A  YEAR  passed  away,  blood-stained  and  sunless,  and 
the  hope  of  a  speedy  termination  of  our  national  trou- 
bles grew  faint  and  fainter ;  the  clouds  of  war  grew  more 
dense  and  the  earth  more  darkened. 

Bertha's  search  for  some  old-time,  familiar  face,  through 
the  hospitals  after  every  "big  battle,"  had  thus  far  been 
unsuccessful.  She  changed  her  mind  relative  to  being  a 
"hospital  nurse"  before  the  close  of  that  year.  Such  scenes 
as  she  had  witnessed  in  passing  through  the  crowds  of  sick 
and  wounded,  gave  her  entirely  new  ideas  of,  and  feelings 
for,  the  vocation. 

Bertha  found  a  woman  was  sadly  out  of  her  sphere  where 
men  and  modesty  were  strangers  to  each  other.  She  drew 
her  thick  veil  over  her  hot  face,  and  hurried  through,  shut- 
ting her  eyes  sometimes  to  avoid  a  second  view  of  some 
sickening  scene. 

The  September  sun  had  not  reached  its  meridian  when  a 
one-horse  cart,  well  laden  with  wood,  was  observed  by  the 
guard  at  West  End  slowly  approaching  from  the  Theologi- 
cal Seminary. 

The  appearance  of  the  driver  was  interesting  in  the  ex- 
26 


302  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

treme.  Union  Brassbuttons  eyed  him  with  evident  satis- 
faction. 

He  was  very  tall,  and  sat  upon  the  cart-front  with  both 
big  boots  as  far  apart  as  they  could  conveniently  get.  His 
pants,  of  "Virginia  mixed,"  were  rolled  to  the  knees,  and 
a  broad-brimmed  hat  slouched  over  long  grizzly  locks,  with 
a  red  bandanna  tied  under  the  chin,  indicating  toothache  or 
neuralgia.  He  swung  his  whip  lazily,  as  he  came  on  at  a 
snail's  gallop,  and  whistled  loudly,  "  The  Red,  White,  and 
Blue." 

"Halt!" 

Woodman  drew  up  short,  and  smoothed  out  his  mouth. 

"I  corned  a  purpose.  What '11  ye  have?"  inquired  Broad- 
brim. 

"  Got  ary  papergram  aboard  o'  your  trousers?"  said  guard. 

"  Nary  time,"  diving  his  hands  deep  down  in  his  pockets, 
and  bringing  up  something  that  looked  suspicious ;  "  but 
I've  got  some  nasty  Confederate  scrip  I've  been  peddlin' 
off  to  the  Union  boys  as  curiosities,  you  know.  Have 
some  ?     Only  ten  cent  on  the  dollar,  you  know." 

"  Don't  care  'f  I  dew.     How  much  you  got  o'  the  trash?" 

"Le'  me  see ;  one,  two,  three" — and  woodman  counted  up 
to  thirty.  "  Got  thirty  o'  the  stuff.  Take  'em  for  the  rest  o' 
the  boys,  you  know.  They'll  want  'em  to  speck'late  on, 
you  know." 

"  Wall,  yas  — guess  as  how  I  will,  *  you  know,' "  said  Yank, 
winking  significantly.  "  Here 's  three  good  dollars  for  the 
nasty  stuff,  jest  out  o'  Uncle  Sam's  mint.  Makes  your 
mouth  water  —  say,  yeou  ?  " 

"  All  right,  you  know.  Git  up  here,  Bose  —  got  to  sell 
out  'fore  dark,  and  git  a  pass  back,  you  know  ? " 

"Hold  on  there;  yeou  hain't  got  no  contrabands  and 
things  aboard  o'  your  pile — love-letters  and  sich  —  stowed 
into  knot-holes,  and  so  on,  be  yeou?  " 


BERTHA,   TIIE    BEAUTY.  303 

"  Not 's  I  knows  on  —  haw  !  haw  !  You  kin  look,  you 
know,  and  if  you  ketch  a  weazel  asleep,  you  kin  jest  tell 
me,  you  know." 

"  Guess  I  '11  be  pooty  apt  tew  dew  that  same,  you  know ! " 
said  Yank,  setting  his  head  on  one  side  and  putting  the  end 
of  his  thumb  to  the  tip  of  his  red  nose.  "Bound  to  be 
pooty  bright-eyed  these  times ;  an',  spite  of  all,  news  sneaks 

through  the  lines— the  d 1  knows  how!     Them  secesh 

women  down  there" — pointing  to  the  city  eastward — "knows 
all  abeout  things  on  t'  other  side  ;  an'  how  they  git  at  it,  old 
Abe's  gov'ment  carn't  find  eout.  Meanest  secesh  hole  in 
creation  —  that 's  so  I  " 

"They  won't  git  no  letters  this  load,  you  know;  I  don't 
tote  contrabanders  to  seceshers,  nary  time,  you  know." 

"  He-aw !  he-aw  !  he-aw  !  "  roared  Yank,  bending  double 
with  the  force  of  sound  ;  "  I  heerd  tell  o'  that  same  ' tote ' 
up  in  Yankee-land,  but  I  never  seen  it  done  afore.  Say, 
yeou,  hain't  got  no  'heap'  o'  letters  to  'tote'  round  — hey?" 
"Reckon  not,  you  know  —  haw  !  haw  !  " 
"  I  '11  jest  look  under  your  broadbrim  and  handkercher, 
ef  you  've  no  objection,  '  you  know/  " 

"  Sartinly ;  but  look  fast,  'cause  I  've  got  the  nuralergy  in 
the  face,  and  mought  ketch  cold,  you  know.  'Sides  that, 
I  've  got  to  git  a  pass  from  Mars  Provost-Marshal  'fore  long, 
or  stay  in  town  over  night,  you  know.  We  southside  fellows 
used  to  gin  them  things  to  niggers,  and  now  they  gin  'em  to 
us,  you  know." 

"Hey?   yeou  d Rebel!    Niggers  be  we?"  and  guard 

levelled  his  musket  at  Broadbrim. 

"  Don't  shoot !  I  '11  come  down ! "  said  woodman,  squat- 
ting behind  the  cart,  and  peeping  under  with  a  broad  grin. 
"  You  would  n't  hurt  an  old  fellow  like  me,  you  know?  " 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  "  snickered  Yank,  dropping  his  gun, 
and  blowing  his  nose  with  his  fingers.     "  Yeou  ain't  no  spy, 


304 

pokin'  in  here  after  no  good,  be  yeou? — jest  eout  o'  the  Rebel 

array,  in  Quaker  clothes,  tew  cheat  a  feller,  like  that  d 

Moseby,  drivin'  in  here  tew  market  with  chickens  to  sell  ?" 

"  Did  n't  do  it,  did  he  ? "  asked  woodman,  with  saucer- 
like eyes. 

"  Wall,  yas — the  d rascal  done  that  same,  they  say; 

and  the  secesh  women  hid  him  till  he  could  creep  eout ! 

Ought  tew  have  a  rope  round  their  necks,  every  d b 

of  'em!  If  't  were  n't  for  them  we  should  n't  'a'  had  such  a 
hard  pull  at  Chantilla,  tew  my  mind ! " 

"Lost  your  man  down  there,  did  n't  ye  ?  " 

"  Yas;  old  Kearney  knocked  under;  and  he'll  be  missed 
tew.     Bravest  man  that  ever  lost  a  arm,  tew  my  mind." 

"  I  reckon,  you  know,  he  went  out  a-cussin',  did  n't  he?" 

"  Like  's  not.     He  was  able  tew  dew  it  —  that 's  so  !  " 

"Say  he  could  cuss  clean  through,  and  come  out  on 
t'  other  side  in  a  blue  streak,  you  know!  Didn't  have  to 
pay  for  cussin'  'fore  that  last  fight  o'  his'n  down  at  Chan- 
tilly ;  but  I  reckon  it  costs  him  dear  now,  with  back  interest, 
you  know ! " 

"  You  hain't  got  nuthin'  further  for  me  to  do,  have  ye  ? 
'cause  it's  time,  you  know,  to  be  movin'  towards  Mars 
Provoste's." 

"  Wall,  yeou  can  move  on  neow,  I  guess.  Good-day,  old 
Broadbrim  ! " 

"  Good-bye,  too  !  much  obleeged  to  ye,  Mars  Fed !  "  said 
woodman,  ducking  his  head  over  the  wood-pile,  and  driving 
on  at  a  brisk  trot. 

As  the  old  Broadbrim  went  down  the  street,  whistling  the 
"Star-spangled  Banner  "  whenever  a  Union  soldier  could 
hear,  his  blue  eyes  flew  from  door  to  door  in  evident  search 
of  something. 

Suddenly  he  tightened  the  reins,  and  called  out  to  Mr. 
Belmont,  standing  on  the  step  : 


BERTHA, THE    BEAUTY. 


305 


"Want  any  wood  to-day,  you  know?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  — how  much  for  it?" 

"  Seventy-five  cents  —  first-rate  wood,  you  know." 

"  Pretty  cheap  —  guess  I  '11  take  it  at  that  rate." 

"  Thought  that  'd  fetch  ye,  you  know.  You  see  it 's 
gittin'  late,  an'  I  've  got  other  fish  to  fry  'fore  I  git  out'n 
here.     Where  '11  ye  have  it  dumped  down  ?" 

"  Here,  Ben,"  (to  the  servant,)  "  show  that  man  where  to 
put  that  wood. 

"  I  '11  come  round  and  settle  for  it." 

Mr.  Belmont  went  out  to  the  alley,  where  Broadbrim  had 
"  dumped  down  "  the  load. 

"  Give  a  fellow  a  drink  o'  water?  "  asked  woodman. 

"  Certainly.     I  '11  send  it  out." 

"Never  mind  ;  I  '11  go  git  it,  if  you  Ve  no  objection." 

"Pleasant  place,  this," —smiled  old  Broadbrim,  sinking 
down  upon  the  piazza-floor,  after  refreshing  himself  with  a 
glass  of  Cameron  run  ;  "  reckon,  I  rest  a  bit." 

"  Take  this  easy-chair,"  said  Bertha,  drawing  it  out  of 
the  hall ;  "  you  look  tired." 

Woodman  gave  a  quick  turn,  and  stamped  his  foot  upon 
the  floor  at  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  ;  I  '11  take  it  'cause  you  say  so  ;  but  I 
ain't  tired  now." 

"Live  far  out?"  inquired  Mr.  Belmont,  as  Claude 
came  up. 

"  Pretty  well  down  —  close  on  to  Manassy." 

"  Good  times  out  there,  plenty  to  eat,  and  no  stealing  ?  " 
asked  Claude. 

"  Haw  !  haw  !  You  need  n't  want  to  try  it !  'Bout  as 
lean  as  Pharaoh's  kine  —  first  the  Rebels,  and  then  the 
Yanks  ;  and  between  the  two  we  're  about  cleaned  out." 

"  The  Southerners  did  n't  trouble  you,  I  reckon,"  said 
Bertha,  smiling. 

26  *  U 


30G  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

u  Why  not,  Miss? "  eying  her  under  his  broadbrim. 

"Because  Southerners  don't  steal  from  their  friends;  but 
the  Yankees  trust  nobody  for  loyalty  down  here,  and  take 
from  all  alike  !  " 

"  That 's  the  blessed  truth,  child  !  I  know  something 
about  that." 

"  Rebel,  eh  ?  "  said  Mr.  Belmont,  with  a  half-frown. 

"  I  'm  a  Southern  man  by  birth  ;  and  I  never  saw  a  man 
born  in  the  South  that  had  n't  real  feeling  for  his  own 
people,  however  much  he  might  think  they  had  erred," 
returned  woodman,  forgetting  apparently,  in  his  warmth, 
his  former  style  of  expression. 

His  hearers  exchanged  intelligent  glances. 

"You  were  born  in  the  South,  I  reckon?"  turning  to 
Bertha. 

"  Oh,  yes,  thank  fortune !  away  down  in  North  Carolina." 

"  Grandest  little  copperhead  within  the  Federal  lines !  — 
ought  to  be  sent  to  the  Old  Capitol!"  laughed  Mr.  Belmont. 

"All  are  copperheads,  nowadays,  who  don't  want  the 
South  sunk  ;  no  matter  if  they  are  faithful  to  the  old  flag, 
and  deplore  secession.  I  reckon  you  were  n't  born  this  side 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's,"  to  Mr.  Belmont. 

"  No,  I  'm  a  Northern  man,  and  true  blue  for  the  Union." 

"  Butler  and  Co. ! "  said  Broadbrim,  catching  his  under 
lip  with  his  upper  teeth  tightly. 

"  Well,  I  never  quarrel  with  a  man  for  differing  from  me 
in  sentiment ;  but  I  wish  them  to  concede  the  same  right  to 
me  ;  and  not  raise  the  hue  and  cry  of  '  traitor,'  '  rebel,'  and 
*  copperhead,'  because  a  Southerner  don't  buy  rope  to  hang 
his  own  people.  I  believe  there  are  as  good  and  true 
Unionists  in  the  South  as  you  could  find  anywhere  North ; 
but  they  get  no  credit  for  it,  if  they  have  any  sympathy  for 
their  struggling  brothers.  I  reckon  this  little  girl  is  Union 
at  heart,"  turning  to  Bertha. 


BEAUTY.  307 

"I  loved  the  South  too  well  to  advocate  secession." 

"  But  now  that  they  are  in  for  it,  you  feel  for  them,  and 
love  still  ?  " 

"  I  do,  /  do  !  "  said  Bertha,  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 

"  That  suits  me  —  let 's  shake  hands,"  said  Broadbrim, 
drawing  off  his  great,  coarse  glove,  and  displaying  a  hand 
that  belied  his  occupation  as  woodman  by  its  size  and 
delicacy. 

"  Seems  to  me  you  're  sailing  under  false  colors,"  ex- 
claimed Claude,  staring  at  the  fine  hand  folding  his  won- 
dering sister's. 

"  Have  to  do  it  these  days  to  carry  the  mail ! "  said 
woodman,  looking  intelligently  at  the  three. 

"  I  reckon  this  little  girl  would  like  to  hear  news  from 
abroad  just  like  as  not." 

"  Should  n't  wonder ! "  and  Claude  stretched  his  eyes 
at  her. 

"  Times  have  been  so  tight  for  a  good  many  months,  that 
the  mail  could  n't  get  round  ;  and  the  general  postmaster 
suspended  the  operation  of  this  office  to  save  expenses." 

"  Reckon  he  'd  like  to  suspend  me  without  taking  the 
oath?"  asked  Broadbrim,  with  a  shake  of  his  long  grizzly 
locks,  and  glancing  sideways  at  Bertha.  "  This  little  girl 
looks  impatient,"  nodding  at  the  smiling  father  and  bro- 
ther. "  Well,  child,  I  have  n't  got  any  letter  for  you  — 
could  n't  have  slipped  through  with  it ;  it 's  all  by  word  of 
mouth.     The  Colonel  is  well  —  " 

"  Colonel!"  ejaculated  Claude.     "You  mean  Major." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't !  I  mean  Colonel.  He  was  promoted 
for  gallant  conduct  at  the  battle  of  Chantilly.  I  saw  it 
done  myself.  This  little  girl  looks  pleased,"  he  added,  eying 
Bertha's  radiant  face  with  a  queer  smile. 

"  But  I  can't  tell  you  all  before  your  father;  he's  a  Yan- 
kee.    And  I  don't  know  but  this  young  man   has  some  of 


308  BERTHA 

his  blood  in  him,  and  might  do  mischief/'  said  Broadbrim, 
looking  under  at  Claude. 

"Better  go  in  and  talk  treason  then,"  laughed  Claude, 
holding  on  to  his  moustache  with  two  fingers. 

Bertha  took  the  hint,  and  led  the  way  to  the  parlor. 

"  That  fellow  's  from  the  Rebel  army,  I  'm  pretty  sure, 
and  ought  to  be  arrested,"  said  Mr.  Belmont  to  Claude. 

"Oh,  he  can't  do  any  hurt.     Don't  interfere  with  —  " 

A  half-scream  from  the  parlor  cut  short  the  sentence. 
Claude  sprang  to  the  door  and  looked  in. 

The  red  bandanna,  broadbrim,  and  grizzly-gray  locks  lay 
upon  the  carpet,  and  "  Bertha  the  Beauty "  was  weeping 
and  laughing  in  the  arms  of  smiling,  blue-eyed,  auburn- 
haired  Colonel  Percy  Ormund. 


CHAPTER  LIL 

JOY   AND   SORROW. — BERTHA    FINDS   WORK   TO   DO. 

OUGHT  to  be  arrested,  by  George !  "  growled  Mr.  Bel- 
mont, as  he  shook  hands  heartily  with  his  would-be 
son-in-law,  with  a  queer  expression  about  the  corners  of  his 
good-natured  mouth. 

"  You  've  done  me  mischief  enough  in  the  past  to  be  in- 
dulgent now,"  returned  Percy,  with  serio-comic  eyes. 

"  Then  I  guess  I  '11  keep  dark  for  the  present,  'you  know* 
—  ha !  ha  !  "  said  Mr.  Belmont,  breaking  into  a  roar  at  the 
memory  of  the  Colonel's  former  appearance  and  style  of 
address. 

Old  Broadbrim  did  not  apply  to  "  Mars  Provost  Mar- 
shal "  for  a  pass  that  day ;  and  the  golden-hued  hours  flew 
all  too  fast  to  the  faithful  hearts  folded  together  for  the  first 


BETITTTA,   THE    BEAUTY.  309 

time,  and  after  a  separation  of  almost  seventeen  long  weary- 
years  ! 

As  twilight  settled  on  the  sunny-faced  day,  Bertha  wa3 
terrified  to  see  a  squad  of  soldiers  file  up  and  ground  arms 
before  her  father's  door.  Something  was  afloat  through  the 
servants,  no  doubt,  and  our  heroine  was  half  wild  with  ap- 
prehension for  her  lover's  safety. 

She  sprang  up  the  back  stairs,  pulling  Percy,  cool  and 
smiling,  after  her,  and  the  Confederate  Colonel  was  pushed 
out  of  the  second-story  back  window,  where  he  escaped  to 
the  roof  of  the  third  by  means  of  a  short  ladder,  luckily 
left  by  the  tinner,  drawing  the  ladder  after  him,  at  Bertha's 
frantic  advice. 

Our  heroine  now  descended  to  the  hall,  trying  to  smooth 
down  her  ruffled  plumage  and  get  at  the  gist  of  the  matter. 

The  General  in  command  had  been  informed  by  "  a  col- 
ored lady"  that  Jeff  Davis,  President  of  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy, had  been  smuggled  into  Mr.  Belmont's  house,  where 
he  was  yet  skulking,  in  countryman's  garb  !  General  Mont- 
gomery ordered  the  soldiers  out  to  capture  the  Rebel  chief. 

"  Ha  !  ha !  "  laughed  Mr.  Belmont.  "I  'm  a  Union  man, 
square  up,  and  would  n't  harbor  Jeff  Davis,  if  I  knew  it. 
I  have  n't  seen  Jeff  since  he  seceded  from  Congress,  and, 
moreover,  he  wouldn't  be  likely  to  run  to  a  Yankee  for 
protection.  But  you  can  examine  my  premises  if  you  ques- 
tion my  veracity.     Look  through,  and  welcome." 

"I  guess  we  won't  trouble  you,"  said  the  gentlemanly 
officer  of  the  day,  doffing  his  cap  to  Bertha's  beautiful  face. 
"  Negroes  are  incessantly  starting  up  some  wonder,  and 
calling  out  guards  for  a  wild  chase.  I  know  your  son  for  a 
staunch  Union  man,  and  feel  confident  he  would  connive  at 
nothing  that  would  endanger  our  government." 

"That's  so!"  said  Claude,  turning  up  his  eyes  innocently, 
with  a  sanctimonious  glance  at  the  ceiling. 


310  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

The  officer  laughed  at  the  droll  expression. 

Claude  Belmont  always  clawed  out  of  a  corner  by  wit 
and  comicality.  He  knew  his  sister's  lover  was  innocent  of 
any  hurtful  design  in  venturing  within  the  Federal  lines, 
and  Claude's  conscience  was  easy  on  that  score. 

"It's  our  duty  to  obey  orders  from  head-quarters,  and 
I  '11  just  look  around  a  little,  to  satisfy  the  General.  Men, 
you  will  not  intrude  —  unless  I  find  the  President ! "  he 
added,  smiling  at  Bertha,  who  felt  no  concern  for  her  lover 
now. 

The  polite  officer  contented  himself  with  a  stroll  through 
the  rooms,  chatting  pleasantly  with  our  pretty  heroine  and 
keeping  his  eyes  upon  her  bewitching  face. 

If  the  Confederate  Colonel  had  been  ensconced  in  her 
closet,  the  Federal  officer  wTould  not  have  found  him  "in 
performing  his  duty." 

Percy  Ormund  came  down  from  his  high  perch,  laughing 
softly  at  his  situation,  and  caught  her  in  his  arms  on  the 
second  roof. 

"  Now  this  is  all  for  you,  little  dear,  *  you  know ! '  Makes 
me  feel  cheap  to  be  running  from  a  Yankee ;  but  I  '11  sub- 
mit to  the  humiliation  any  moment  for  the  sweet  sake  of 
this  !  "  kissing  her  red  mouth  and  hiding  her  curly  head  in 
his  broad  bosom. 

"And  makes  me  feel  streaked  to  be  screening  Rebel  shoul- 
der-straps, and  whipping  the  old  boy  round  the  stump," 
said  Mr.  Belmont,  poking  his  head  through  the  window, 
with  twinkling  eyes.  "  And  dog  my  cats  if  I  'd  a'  done  it 
for  anything  else  but  the  sour  sake  of  doing  penance  for  the 
past ! "  and  the  old  man's  head  disappeared  suddenly. 

How  fast  the  moments  flew7,  and  rolled  around  the  parting 
hour !  Happiness  has  wings,  while  care  goes  halting  through 
the  earth. 

The  radiance  had  all  rippled  away  from  Bertha's  face, 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  311 

and  a  cold  whiteness  was  on  the  cheek  that  leaned  against 
Percy's  supporting  breast. 

But  she  had  grown  familiar  with  suffering  silently, 
through  long  years,  and  her  strong  heart  sustained  her  now 
through  the  hardest  trial  she  had  ever  known. 

They  were  parting,  perhaps  forever.  Bertha  felt  the 
most  fearful  battles  were  yet  to  be  fought ;  and  with  his 
bravery  and  exposure  in  an  army  of  inferior  force,  how 
could  he  escape !  Her  faith  in  an  overruling  Power  par- 
tially failed  her ;  and  she  was  sinking  beneath  the  waves 
of  her  broad  and  deep  love.  But  Percy's  hand  saved  her 
from  going  down,  and  she  walked  with  him  over  the  bois- 
terous waters. 

"Little  girl,"  he  said,  soothingly,  "  'stand  still,  and  see 
the  salvation  of  God.'  We  are  waiting  His  will,  and  let 
us  not  tremble  in  anticipation.  "We  shall  meet  again, 
Bertha  —  here,  if  He  sees  best ;  and  if  not,  we  shall  live 
and  love  together,  where  faithful  souls  receive  a  just  recom- 
pense and  a  righteous  reward.  But  for  obedience  to  Him, 
you  would  be  mine  now  by  other  ties  than  those  of  love  ; 
and  if  we  still  trust,  our  hopes  may  die  in  fruition  even  in 
this  world.  But,  dear  little  one,  if  I  should  fall,  (there, 
dear,  don't  shudder  so  at  the  sound  !  school  yourself  to 
think  of  it  with  composure,  for  a  soldier's  life  is  surrounded 
with  danger,  and  only  God  can  shield  it,)  let  not  that  shake 
your  faith  in  Him  on  whom  you  now  rely. 

'  Blind  unbelief  is  sure  to  err, 
And  scan  His  works  in  vain  ; 
God  is  his  own  interpreter, 
And  He  will  make  it  plain.' 

"  You  know  how  fondly  you  are  loved  by  the  heart  that 
pillows  this  precious  little  golden  head,  and  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  it  is  not  hard  to  let  you  pass  from  my  arms ;  but  it 


312  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

is  written  :  '  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  you,'  and  that  grace 
is  free  to  all.  I  think  I  have  a  sufficiency  to  bravely  bear 
all  that  may  be  in  reservation  for  a  trial  of  faith ;  and  I 
would  have  my  own  dear  Bertha  as  strong  and  hopeful  as 
her  soldier  lover.  Won't  she  be  ? "  lifting  her  chin  with  his 
finger,  and  kissing  the  grieving  mouth. 

"I  will  try,  Percy  —  I  will  try  hard!      You  will  help 


me 


It  was  long  before  Percy  Ormund  spoke  again.  He  was 
trying  "hard  "  to  master  his  emotions  and  comfort  her.  His 
flattering  heart  felt  how  very  hard  it  was  for  her  —  a  little, 
weak  woman  —  to  hold  her  feelings  in  abeyance  to  will, 
when  he,  a  strong  man  and  a  bold  soldier,  had  enough  to 
do  to  hide  his  own.  But  grace  conquered  the  natural 
enemy,  and  Percy's  Christian  heart  did  help  her  to  be 
"  strong  in  the  faith  that  was  first  delivered  to  the  saints." 

He  drew  her  to  a  kneeling  posture,  and,  with  her  head 
resting  upon  his  shoulder,  the  brave  soldier  of  the  Cross, 
as  well  as  of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  strengthened  her 
weak  woman's  heart  by  a  fervent  petition  to  Him  who 
governs  and  controls  the  affairs  of  earth  with  a  firmer  faith, 
a  holier  hope,  and  easier  submission  to  the  divine  will. 

And  if  the  smile  in  Bertha's  eyes  was  sad,  when  Colonel 
Ormund  looked  a  last  farewell  in  their  loving  brown  depths, 
there  was  no  tear  there  to  trouble  him  with  the  memory 
when  he  was  far  away. 

"  You  're  in  a  bad  cause,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Belmont,  at 
parting ;  "  but  I  know  you  think  you  're  right,  or  you  would  n't 
have  gone  against  your  conscience ;  and  I  wish  you  may 
slip  through  it  all  safely,  and  knock  under  with  a  good 
grace." 

"I  see  a  Providence  in  all  things,  sir;  and  if  we  fail  to 
establish  a  separate  government,  I  shall  know  how  to  sub- 
mit to  the  result. 


•BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  313 

"  But,  live  or  die,  stand  or  fall,  I  am  with  my  native 
South ! "  said  Colonel  Percy  Ormund,  with  spirit-flashing  eyes. 

"That  fellow's  game!"  muttered  Mr.  Belmont,  as  he 
turned  away,  scratching  his  head.  "I  only  wish  his  grit 
was  on  the  side  of  right.  If  he  and  Stonewall  would  climb 
over  to  the  Union,  we  should  n't  have  much  more  war,  I  'm 
thinking.  I  guess  the  Southern  air  is  tainted  with  treason  ; 
and  if  i"  had  a  slavery  constitution,  it  would  be  infected 
too ! " 

And  Mr.  Belmont  but  expressed  the  sentiment  of  the  ma- 
jority of  his  people  in  this  last  sentence. 

Time  dragged  wearily  away,  stained  with  blood  and  satu- 
rated with  tears.  The  strength  of  the  Southern  Confederacy 
was  dwindling,  and  a  draft  for  five  hundred  thousand  men 
was  ordered  by  President  Lincoln  to  overwhelm  the  "  Rebel 
Government." 

Bertha  heard  from  her  lover  now  only  through  the  public 
prints.  She  had  followed  him,  unscathed,  through  many  a 
hard-fought  battle,  through  the  Maryland  raids,  up  to  the 
struggle  at  Winchester,  and  there  he  was  wounded  !  Even 
his  enemies  acknowledged  his  valor  in  a  hopeless  cause. 

Bertha  could  not  sit  still  now ;  her  feet  moved  with  the 
restlessness  of  her  mind.  She  did  not  know  if  his  wound 
was  slight  or  serious.  She  only  knew  he  was  suffering,  and 
she  could  not  go  to  him ! 

Percy  had  said  to  her  during  their  last  interview : 

"  Do  all  the  good  you  can,  my  dear  little  girl,  alike  to 
friend  and  foe.  These  boys  in  blue  are  only  doing  their 
duty,  they  think,  as  we  are  doing  ours.  Away  from  the 
battle-field  we  forget  they  are  our  foes ;  and  God  has  com- 
manded, 'Do  good  to  them  that  hate  you.'  In  suffering, 
help  them,  if  you  can." 

"To  fight  against  you  again?"  said  Bertha,  hiding  her 
eyes  from  his  glorious  smile,  against  his  fluttering  heart. 


314  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

Bertha  wandered  through  the  full  hospitals,  after  the 
battle  of  Winchester,  in  search  of  something  to  do,  and  she 
found  it  ere  long.  But  for  Percy's  goodness,  that  compassed 
both  friend  and  foe,  she  would  never  have  seen  that  face 
again  this  side  of  the  eternal  world. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

THE   UNEXPECTED   MEETING.  —  THE  ENAMORED 
CHAPLAIN. 

BERTHA  stood  motionless,  gazing  in  silent  horror  upon 
that  face.  Was  he  dead?  She  would  have  thought 
so,  but  for  the  dilating  of  the  nostrils  with  labored  breathing. 

"  How  long  has  he  been  here  ?  "  she  inquired  of  the  chap- 
lain, who  had  become  enamored  of  her  charms,  and  followed 
her  through  the  hospital. 

"  Only  a  day ;  but  he  lay  upon  the  battle-ground  three 
days  and  nights  before  he  was  brought  off.  His  case  is 
hopeless,  the  surgeon  says.     His  appearance  indicates  it." 

"  Has  he  no  friends  ? " 

"  When  first  brought  in  he  was  delirious,  and  raved  of 
*  Bertha,'  and  '  wife,'  but  on  being  restored  to  reason,  he  de- 
clined my  proposition  to  notify  his  friends  of  his  situation." 

"  Do  you  know  his  name,  and  where  he  is  from  ?  " 

"  Harry  Atherton,  of  Madison,  Wisconsin." 

Bertha  turned  quickly  away,  and  hurried  to  the  door,  fol- 
lowed by  the  admiring  chaplain,  who  proved,  in  after-days, 
to  be  a  widower  from  New  York. 

Our  heroine  hesitated,  and  looked  back  at  the  death-like 
face.  Should  she  leave  him  there  to  die  among  strangers  ? 
Percy's  advice,  "  Do  all  the  good  you  can,  alike  to  friend 


THE    BEAUTY.  315 

and  foe,"  was  living  in  her  memory  when  she  looked  back 
at  that  face. 

To  the  chaplain's  surprise  and  curiosity,  she  deliberately- 
retraced  her  steps  and  knelt  down  by  the  soldier's  cot.  He 
watched  her  silently  at  a  respectful  distance. 

Bertha  knelt  there  a  long  time,  living  over  the  past,  and 
praying  for  the  future  of  the  soul  that  would  soon  go  to  its 
last  account,  before  the  sunken  eyes  of  that  dying  man 
opened  upon  her  earnest  face. 

"Oh,  Bertha!  my  wife!  my  injured  wife!"  his  arms 
reached  after  her  yearningly. 

"  Horace,  remember  Louisa ;  do  not  wrong  her,"  and 
Bertha  eluded  his  eager  grasp. 

His  hands  fell  over  his  anguished  face,  and  Horace  Stan- 
hope groaned  in  bitterness  of  soul. 

"Is  that  your  husband?"  asked  the  excited  chaplain, 
unable  longer  to  control  his  feelings,  with  a  face  of  such 
evident  interest  and  anxiety  that  Bertha  long  remem- 
bered it. 

"  Oh,  no ;  his  wife  is  far  away ;  but  we  were  friends  in 
other  years,"  said  Bertha,  wishing  to  screen  him  as  well  as 
herself. 

The  soldier  looked  up  wildly. 

"  You  are  my  wife !    I  have  no  other,  and  I  am  a  villain ! " 

"You  have  no  other,  Mr.  Atherton?"  she  exclaimed, 
still  striving  to  screen  him  from  the  astonished  chaplain. 

"No,  dear,  I  have  no  other;  and  you  know  my  name  is 
not  Atherton,  Bertha." 

"  I  do,  Mr.  Stanhope ;  but  you  wear  it." 

"  Throw  it  away !  throw  it  away  !  It 's  time  to  be  honest 
now !  "  he  cried,  wildly.  "  If  I  had  always  been,  you  would 
not  have  deserted  me,  Bertha!  And  I  died  to  all  good  when 
I  lost  you  !     I  wish  I  had  died  before  I  deceived  her !  " 

"  Louisa  ? " 


316  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"Yes,  dear;  Louisa — poor  Louisa!  We  were  not  legally 
married,  and  it  broke  her  heart !  I  was  villain  enough  to 
betray  her  innocence,  and  then  exult  in  her  misery ;  and  she 
died !  I  never  loved  her ;  and  when  my  little  Bertha  was 
taken,  I  told  her  all,  and  it  broke  her  heart ! "  groaned 
Horace  Stanhope,  in  an  agony  of  remorse. 

"Who  was  'little  Bertha,'  Horace ?" 

"  My  daughter  —  my  idol !  I  loved  her  next  to  you,  Ber- 
tha, and  I  grew  desperate  when  she  died.  If  there  is  a  God, 
He  has  punished  me  enough  in  this  world ! "  throwing  his 
hands  up  restlessly. 

Bertha  looked  at  the  horrified  chaplain.  His  face  plainly 
indicated  his  feelings :  it  was  cold-white,  and  the  broad  brow 
contracted  with  inward  pain. 

"  Death-beds  are  honest  places,"  he  said,  solemnly.  "  Your 
name  is  Stanhope,  then  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  And  this  lady  is  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  my  wife !  I  never  was  divorced,  though  I 
said  it  to  deceived  Louisa.  I  needed  her  wealth,  and  I 
obtained  and  squandered  it.  I  could  not  be  divorced  a  vin- 
culo et  matrimonii,  and  I  married  her  illegally.  I  was  n't 
villain  enough  to  slander  you,  Bertha,  and  without  that  I 
could  not  be  free  to  marry  again.  How  did  you  know  I 
had  another  wife  ?  " 

"  Through  Alonzo,  first." 

"  He  thought  so.  I  played  an  infamous  part.  I  would 
have  deserted  her,  when  I  secured  her  wealth,  and  come  to 

you,  but  for  Are  you  married  ? "  suddenly  starting 

up  with  a  new  thought. 

"  Oh,  no.     I  was  not  free." 

"But  you  might  have  been — you  could  have  obtained 
full  freedom,  when  I  deceived  Louisa." 

"  As  the  world  goes  ;  but  not  in  God's  sight." 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  317 

"  How?  "  betraying  his  astonishment  in  his  eyes. 

"No  human  decree  can  set  me  at  liberty  to  marry  again 
while  you  live,  Mr.  Stanhope.  I  am  free  from  you  by  your 
own  act;  but  my  vow  to  God  is  yet  binding.  I  said:  'so 
long  as  we  both  shall  live ; '  and  so  long  as  we  do,  I  shall 
not  marry  again." 

The  chaplain's  hands  came  together  right  suddenly,  as  he 
turned  away  without  a  word.  He  soon  returned;  but 
Bertha  did  not  see  his  face.  She  would  have  been  startled 
if  she  had. 

Horace  Stanhope  saw  that  face,  and  the  snake  hissed  at 
it,  even  on  a  death-bed. 

"  I  won't  die,  then  ;  you  are  mine  !  "  he  exclaimed,  reach- 
ing after  her.     But  Bertha  shrank  away. 

"  I  am  not  yours  now,  Mr.  Stanhope.  You  forfeited  all 
right  to  me  when  you  married  her." 

"Won't  you  forgive  me,  Bertha?"  he  pleaded,  with 
clasped  hands. 

"There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  Horace.  I  feel  only  kind- 
ness and  solicitude  for  you.  You  said,  '  If  there  is  a  God  ! ' 
Do  you  doubt  it  now  ? " 

He  lay  still  a  while,  looking  at  her  strangely. 

"Do  you  doubt  it,  Horace?" 

"Dear,  I  don't  know.  Must  I  die?"  turning  to  the 
chaplain. 

"  It  is  well  to  be  prepared.  You  have  a  great  deal  to  do 
before  you  are  ready,  I  think ;  but  God  is  able  and  willing 
to  pardon  much  in  a  short  space  of  time.  Ask  Him.  We 
will  help  you." 

"  Do  they  say  I  must  die?"  grasping  after  Bertha. 

"  Horace,  think  of  heaven  first,  and  death  or  life  after. 
Are  you  afraid  to  die?" 

"I  want  the  surgeon,"  he  said,  looking  eagerly  around  ; 
"  I  must  know  the  truth.    I  wished  to  die  when  they  brought 


318 

me  here,  but  now  I  want  to  live.  I  thought  all  was  lost 
then,  but  it  will  not  be  lost  until  I  die.  Where  is  the  Doc- 
tor ? "  to  the  interested  chaplain. 

Mr.  Olney  left  the  cot,  and  dispatched  the  steward  for 
the  surgeon.  He  thought  it  best  the  wounded  man  should 
know  his  true  state,  in  order  to  turn  his  thoughts  to  the 
land  of  spirits.  He  saw  Horace  Stanhope's  heart  was 
wedded  to  this  world,  and  he  wished  to  break  the  bond 
before  it  was  too  late.  He  feared  it  wTas  too  late  already, 
from  what  he  had  heard  ;  for  an  infidel's  mind  cannot  be 
melted  and  remoulded  in  a  moment. 

The  surgeon  came  ere  long.  He  was  a  large,  fat,  merry- 
mouthed  old  Frenchman,  universally  loved  by  the  soldiers. 
But  his  piety  could  have  been  put  in  a  nutshell,  if  it  could 
have  been  found  at  all. 

Horace  turned  to  him,  eagerly  : 

"Will  I  live?     Must  I  die?" 

"  Mon  Dieu  !     You  can  do  bote  on  'em  !  —  he-a,  he-a !  " 

"  Will  I  recover  ?  —  tell  me  plainly." 

"  Certainement !  when  dat  cut  heales.  Vilain  wound, 
do  —  a-h!" 

"  I  wish  to  be  informed  of  your  honest  opinion.  Do  you 
think  I  will  recover  ?  " 

"  Well,  a-h,  vous  may  —  worse  cuts  been  —  " 

"Don't  flatter  him  with  false  hopes,"  interrupted  the 
earnest  chaplain ;  "  tell  him  what  you  think.  The  fate  of 
an  immortal  soul  may  hang  upon  your  words." 

"  A-h  !  Send  for  de  priest  den  —  may  recouvrer,  mais  not 
much  hope  —  too  long  on  de  ground  —  time  to  say  votre 
prieres  !  "  said  the  old  surgeon,  with  a  solemnity  of  counte- 
nance that  was  unusual  and  impressive. 

"You  will  soon  be  free,  then!"  and  the  dying  man 
caught  after  Bertha  so  quickly  that  he  well-nigh  succeeded 
in  securing  her. 


BERTHA, THE    BEAUTY.  3U 

"  Dear,  let  me  hold  you  a  little  while.  I  shall  soon  be 
out  of  your  way,  Bertha,  my  wife !  " 

"  Mon  Bleu  !  dat  your  wife !  "  ejaculated  the  old  surgeon, 
with  white  rolling  eyes  ;  "don't  wondair  vous  eagair  to  get 
holt  of  elle!" 

Our  heroine  made  no  reply  contradictory  of  this  asser- 
tion—  she  forbore  to  excite  him  further.  Her  pity  was 
fully  aroused. 

"Are  you  afraid  to  die,  Horace?  Pray  for  pardon,  that 
we  may  meet  in  a  happier  world,  when  the  sufferings  of  this 
are  ended." 

"  Dear,  I  can't  think  till  you  are  nearer !  I  want  you, 
Bertha.  I  have  suffered  enough  for  my  sins,  to  die  in  your 
arms  now.  Come  to  me,  my  wife ; "  both  lean  and  bloodless 
hands  were  stretched  after  her. 

Bertha  laid  her  small  fingers  within  his  eager  clasp, 
struggling  to  keep  back  the  upgushing  tears. 

"  Oh,  if  I  had  been  good  as  you,  Bertha,  I  might  have 
been  happy  now !  I  see  it  all  wThen  it  is  too  late !  "  groaned 
the  remorseful  man. 

"  It  is  not  too  late  for  happiness  in  heaven,  Horace.  Turn 
your  eyes  from  this  world,  and  prepare  for  the  one  above." 

"  Dear,  I  don't  want  to  die !  I  have  no  hope  of  a  better 
world  than  this,  and  no  fear  of  a  worse  one.  I  have  lived 
without  a  God,  and,  if  there  is  one,  He  is  too  far  away  from 
my  heart  to  touch  it  with  repentance  now.  But  I  do  repent 
of  my  sins,  because  they  separated  me  from  you,  Bertha  — 
that  is  all !  " 

"  Horace,  if  you  love  me,  try  to  believe  —  ask  God  to 
help  you,  and  He  will.  Your  love  for  me,  Horace,  should 
convince  you  there  is  a  great  Fountain  of  Love  from  whence 
this  little  drop  of  affection  has  come  to  your  heart.  The 
soul's  capacity,  here  in  this  world,  should  be  sufficient  proof 
of  its  immortality." 


320  BEPwTIIA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"  Bertha,  a  '  little  drop '  ?  Dear,  it 's  a  boundless  ocean  ! 
There 's  no  heaven  for  me  without  you,  my  wife !  And  yet 
I  married  her! — a  mock-marriage!  Oh,  I'm  a  villain! 
I  '11  own  it  now !  But  I  never  felt  it  until  that  Rebel  Or- 
mund  gave  me  my  death-wound.  Bertha !  Bertha !  are 
you  going  to  faint  ? "  he  cried,  in  evident  alarm,  as  she 
sprang  up  and  gasped  for  breath,  with  face  ashen  and  ago- 
nized. 

"Dear,  do  you  feel  for  me,  now  that  I  must  die?"  he 
asked,  piteously. 

"  Yes,  Horace  ;  I  do,  deeply.  I  must  leave  you  now,  but 
I  will  come  again." 

"  Oh,  Bertha,  don't  go !     I  shall  die  before  you  return  !  " 

"  No  dangair  of  dat,  if  she  don't  stay  two  or  tree  days," 
said  the  old  surgeon,  eying  her  narrowly.  "Bettair  go 
rest  a  little  —  mon  Dieu  !  " 

"Will  I  live  that  long?" 

"  Certainement  —  may  recouvrer  from  de  vilain  cut — keep 
bright  —  a-h!"  returned  the  old  doctor,  still  watching 
Bertha's  white  and  agitated  face. 

"  Dear,  will  you  seal  your  pardon  with  a  kiss  ?  It  will 
help  me  to  die.  Your  God  may  forgive  me,  too.  My  heart 
was  hard  before  you  came,  but  your  goodness  has  broken 
the  rock.  I  will  try  to  believe.  If  there  is  life  beyond  the 
grave,  I  want  to  live  with  you  through  all  eternity,  Bertha. 
That  would  be  heaven  enough." 

Bertha  knelt  down  to  gratify  the  wTish  of  the  penitent 
and  dying  man,  and  it  was  long  before  she  rose  from  his 
twining  arms. 

"  You  will  stay  and  encourage  him,"  she  said  to  the 
chaplain. 

"  I  will.  Give  yourself  no  concern,  but  more  attention," 
he  replied,  as  he  looked  down  soberly  upon  the  white  face 
upturned  to  his. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  321 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

HORACE   STANHOPE   CONFESSES   TO   BERTHA. 

DID  Bertha  love  the  penitent,  dying  man,  who  was  still 
her  husband,  though  crimson  with  crime  ?  Almost  — 
and  her  spirit  yearned  over  his  soul. 

"  That  Rebel  Ormund  "  had  gone  like  a  flash  of  electricity 
through  her  frame,  and  would  have  betrayed  her  to  Horace 
Stanhope  had  he  been  the  same  as  in  other  years. 

But  he  was  no  longer  the  same.  Then  he  threw  his  guilt 
upon  other  shoulders,  and  was  clean  in  his  own  eyes ;  now 
he  acknowledged  his  sins,  and  writhed  beneath  the  burden. 
This  was  the  "  repentance  that  needed  not  to  be  repented 
of."  Had  he  been  thus  in  years  gone  by,  how  she  could 
have  loved  him ! 

And  as  Bertha  knelt  there  in  her  silent  chamber,  and 
prayed  for  her  repentant  and  suffering  husband,  she  felt 
her  own  imperfections,  and  asked  God  to  forgive  the  great 
sin  of  her  past  life.  Bertha  felt  now,  with  that  sadly- 
changed  face  —  that  wreck  of  all  that  was  once  handsome 
and  manly  in  seeming  —  how  great  had  been  her  error  in 
deserting  him.  Conscience  lashed  her  for  dereliction  in  duty 
to  one  whose  whole  heart  was  inurned  in  her  life. 

Bertha  lost  sight  of  his  past  sins  in  contemplating  her 
own.  She  had  never  felt  guilty  towards  Horace  Stanhope 
till  now,  and  her  resolve  for  the  future  was  formed  before 
she  rose  from  that  soul-confession  to  the  great  High -Priest. 

She  had  thought  he  had  forgotten  her  —  that  he  was  happy 
in  another's  love  ;  if  not  happy,  that  she  was  not  answerable 
for  his  unrest.      But  now  she  saw  and  felt,  through  his 

V 


322  B-ERTHA,    THE     BEAUTY. 

changed  form  and  dying  words,  as  he  believed,  how  deep 
was  her  guilt  in  leaving  him  to  be  tempted  and  tried  by  a 
world  that  often  conquers  even  Christian  hearts.  What 
might  she  not  have  anticipated  for  him  ? 

She  knew  now  the  pain  of  separation  from  one  who  is  the 
life  of  our  life.  With  all  the  grace  that  God  had  given  her, 
it  was  hard  to  endure  patiently  absence  from  Percy  Ormund 
in  his  wounded  and  suffering  state.  What,  then,  must  have 
been  his  utter  abandonment  to  evil,  who  had  no  grace  to 
sustain  him  under  the  mighty  pain  of  her  loss !  He  might 
recover.  She  had  known  men  to  be  restored  whose  condi- 
tion had  been  hopeless.  If  Horace  were  spared,  through 
an  all-wise  Providence,  she  would  sacrifice  all  to  wash  out 
the  great  sin-stain  of  the  past  that  oppressed  her  awakened 
conscience.  And  Percy  would  approve  her  —  she  knew 
that.  She  had  been  purified  and  elevated  by  his  lofty  and 
Christian  spirit.  But  for  his  noble  advice,  she  would  prob- 
ably never  have  seen  her  suffering  husband  again  on  earth. 
If  he  recovered  —  and  Bertha  fancied  there  was  hope,  from 
the  old  surgeon's  last  words  —  he  would  not  have  sought 
her,  after  his  "mock-marriage"  with  another;  he  might 
have  fallen  in  battle  at  last,  and  gone  to  the  bar  of  God, 
unbelieving  and  hard,  as  he  had  confessed  he  was,  ere  she 
came  to  soften  his  stony  heart. 

And  Percy  had  sent  him  to  her !  His  hand  had  made 
him  feel  his  past  villany,  and  confess  it  to  her  whom  he  had 
wronged !  The  hand  of  him  she  had  loved  from  earliest 
girlhood  had  broken  the  infidel  heart  of  him  who  had 
blighted  the  fairest  years  of  her  life,  and  prepared  it  to  re- 
ceive the  Truth. 

Bertha  was  amazed  at  the  mysterious  workings  of  Provi- 
dence, and  she  felt  convinced  that  the  will  of  God  concern- 
ing her  would  be  shown  in  the  result  of  her  husband's 
wound  at  the  hand  of  her  lover. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         323 

Claude  Belmont  was  astonished  by  the  intelligence  that 
Bertha  brought  from  the  hospital.  They  had  laughed  at 
the  idea  of  Horace  Stanhope  going  to  the  war. 

"  Could  n't  get  out  of  the  draft,  and  caught  cold,  1 11 
bet !  "  said  incredulous  Claude. 

Bertha  urged  him  to  return  with  her  to  see  Horace,  and 
he  went,  fully  assured  his  sister  had  been  imposed  upon  again 
by  the  wily  hypocrite.  He  could  not  believe  Horace  Stan- 
hope's penitence  sincere,  in  spite  of  his  supposed  situation. 

But  Claude  came  back  to  his  home  with  another  belief 
and  wholly  changed  feelings  for  his  brother-in-law.  His 
eyes  looked  suspiciously  watery  when  he  related  to  his  won- 
dering parents  his  interview  with  the  suffering  man. 

"  I  cave,"  said  Claude,  with  characteristic  humor.  "  I  '11 
own  up  square  that  I  can't  see  old-time  Horace  Stanhope 
in  the  wounded  soldier  that  bears  his  name.  It 's  the  Lord's 
doing,  and  it's  marvellous  in  my  eyes." 

Horace  Stanhope's  story,  as  related  to  Bertha  and  Claude, 
we  will  give  in  his  own  words : 

"  After  you  left  me,  Bertha,  I  cursed  God  and  defied  Him 
to  torment  me  more !  Not  that  I  believed  there  was  one, 
but  it  was  a  relief  to  blaspheme  his  name !  "When  your 
waving  handkerchief  grew  indistinct,  and  all  trace  of  you 
was  lost  in  the  dark  depths  of  distance,  I  felt  cold  and  hard 
as  a  stone.  And  that  feeling  followed  me,  Bertha,  until  I 
saw  you  again.  After  the  first  bitterness  of  parting  was 
past,  I  found  a  little  comfort  in  hoping  I  should  win  you 
back  again.  But  when  a  year  —  that  was  an  age  to  me  — 
went  by,  and  you  gave  me  no  encouragement,  I  threatened 
you  with  a  divorce,  thinking  you  would  avoid  the  shame 
of  such  a  situation  by  yielding  to  my  desire.  I  dared  not 
come  to  you,  Bertha,  for  I  —  " 

"I  know  all,  Horace;  'let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead;'" 
said  Bertha,  quickly,  glancing  significantly  at  Claude. 


324         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"  You  know  all,  dear?  "  staring  at  her  wildly. 

"  Yes,  Horace,  pass  it  by ;  it  a  all  over  now,  and  you 
repent." 

"  And  he  does  not  ? "  pointing  to  Claude,  whose  face 
betrayed  his  interest. 

"  No,  no  !  —  let  it  lie  buried,  Horace  ;  you  —  " 

"No,  dear  ;  he  must  know  what  a  villain  he  influenced  you 
to  marry  against  your  will !    How  did  you  know,  Bertha  ? " 

"  I  heard  the  story  soon  after  locating  here,  and  traced  it 
to  you.  No  one  suspects  me  of  bearing  any  relationship  to 
the  author  of  the  crime.  With  your  accomplice  I  have 
become  personally  acquainted.  His  name  convinced  me  of 
your  guilt.  He  was  with  you  when  you  arrived  at  Wil- 
liamsville,  Horace." 

"  Yes,  dear."  Horace  Stanhope  clasped  his  hands  over 
his  eyes,  and  the  first  blush  that  Bertha  had  ever  seen  upon 
his  face  passed  over  it  then.  After  a  pause,  he  turned  toward 
the  wondering  brother. 

"  Before  I  saw  you  I  was  a  clerk  in  this  city.  I  robbed 
my  employer,  wTho  tempted  me  with  funds  to  deposit  in 
bank,  and  with  an  accomplice  in  crime,  who  was  a  young 
man  of  high  social  position,  I  fled  southward,  and  —  " 

Claude  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  with  fire-flashing  eyes. 

"  Great  heavens,  I  have  heard  the  story  !  —  and  you  were 
the  villain  that  deceived  us  and  married  my  sister !  " 

"  Even  so !  *  Death-beds  are  honest  places,'  said  the  chap- 
lain. I  know  it  is  a  death-bed,  Bertha,  by  the  desire  I 
feel  to  make  this  confession  now.  I  thought  you  were  igno- 
rant of  my  former  residence  in  this  town,  and  I  wished  you 
to  remain  so.  Had  you  gone  elsewhere  on  earth,  I  would 
have  followed  you." 

"  Mysterious  are  the  ways  of  Providence.  It  is  not  in 
man  that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps,"  said  Claude,  looking 
at  Bertha,  with  wide,  sober,  and  significant  eyes. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  325 

"  With  the  termination  of  our  correspondence  died  all  my 
hopes.  I  was  mad  with  all  the  world  but  myself.  I  thought 
you  exulted  in  torturing  me,  and  yet  I  could  not  hate  you, 
Bertha.  I  loved  you  to  idolatry,  and  I  thought  it  was  your 
duty  to  love  me  after  you  became  my  wife,  without  remem- 
bering that  I  had  any  duty  to  perform  apart  from  that  of 
worshipping  you. 

"  Had  you  been  blind  and  helpless  —  wholly  dependent 
upon  me  for  all  you  enjoyed  —  I  should  have  been  perfectly 
happy,  Bertha ;  but  it  made  me  miserable  to  see  you  smile 
upon  another  !  I  rendered  you  wretched  with  my  love,  and 
I  had  not  the  strength  and  manliness  to  try  to  win  you  by 
gentleness  and  patience.  I  was  cruel  and  tyrannical,  be- 
cause you  could  not  be  driven  to  reciprocate  my  deep  affec- 
tion. Oh,  I  was  mad ! "  he  cried,  wildly  straining  her  to 
his  breast,  "to  make  my  own  misery  fourteen  weary  years, 
when  I  might  have  realized  as  perfect  happiness  as  earth 
can  afford ;  for  if  you  can  forgive  and  pity  me  now,  my 
sweet  wife,  you  could  have  loved  me  fondly  then,  had  I  been 
worthy.  But  I  was  not  worthy,  and  I  made  you  suffer  for 
my  sins.  If  I  could  re-live  the  past  now,  Bertha,  I  would 
sooner  die  than  oppress  you  as  I  have.  But  it  can  never 
be  recalled,  dear,  and  I  shall  soon  be  in  another  world.  I 
hope  it  will  be  the  one  to  which  you  will  go  when  your  pure 
life  is  ended  here,  Bertha ;  if  I  knew  that,  I  wTould  be  will- 
ing to  die.  There  is  nothing  to  live  for,  now  that  you  and 
my  baby-Bertha  are  lost;  and  you  will  think  of  me  kindly 
when  I  am  gone,  or  you  would  not  comfort  me  with  your 
dear  presence  now." 

Bertha's  deep  sobs  burst  into  a  half  scream  —  she  could 
not  have  helped  it,  to  save  the  world.  The  more  he  confessed 
his  guilt,  the  more  she  felt  her  owrn  ;  and  the  thought  of  his 
dying  before  she  could  atone  for  the  past  by  future  efforts 
agonized  her. 
28 


326         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

Horace  Stanhope  was  evidently  surprised  by  the  deep 
feeling  manifested  by  one  whom  he  had  so  deeply  wronged, 
and  his  words  of  soothing  were  tender  to  the  last  degree,  and 
bit  our  conscience-awakened  heroine. 

"  Oh,  Horace,  I  ought  to  have  died  rather  than  desert 
you !  I  did  not  bear  and  forbear  enough.  I  feel  my  sins 
now." 

"  Dear,  I  have  been  living  over  the  past  since  you  came 
to  comfort  me  here,  and  I  only  wonder  that  you  endured  so 
long.  I  used  to  think  I  was  more  sinned  against  than  sin- 
ning; but  now  I  see  through  a  changed  medium  when  it  is 
too  late !  You  were  only  human,  Bertha,  and  could  not 
bear  inhuman  wrongs.  It  is  strange  that  I  never  felt  this 
until  I  came  to  die !  Had  you  not  escaped  from  your 
tyrant,  I  might  have  murdered  you  with  cruel  love,  as  I  did 
her  by  soulless  indifference !  She  loved  "me,  Bertha,  almost 
as  well  as  I  did  you  ;  and  yet  I  crushed  her  life  out  by  un- 
kindness  !  Oh,  I  don't  wonder  now  that  you  abandoned  to 
his  own  wickedness  one  so  dishonest  and  depraved.  I  threw 
happiness  from  me,  and  misery  came  to  punish  the  evil 
deed.  Conscience  acquits  you  of  all  wrong  now,  my  dear 
wife.  I  don't  wonder  that  you  left  me  to  suffer  for  my 
sins !  " 

This  was  what  had  compelled  Claude  Belmont  to  "  cave." 
He  could  not  doubt  the  sincerity  of  Horace  Stanhope,  in 
view  of  his  situation.  He  evidently  felt  his  "  days  were 
numbered  and  finished,"  and  had  no  earthly  motive  in 
making  this  confession  but  to  comfort  her. 

But  Bertha  could  not  be  soothed  under  the  pressure  of 
such  self-reproaches  as  his  changed  appearance  aroused. 
Her  very  soul  wept  as  she  listened  to  his  self-reproaches  and 
looked  upon  his  wrecked  form. 

The  once  shining  black  hair  was  thickly  sprinkled  with 
gray ;  the  full,  fair,  oval  face  of  olden  days  was  sunken  and 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  327 

Beamed  and  sallow ;  and  the  large,  soft,  heavenly  blue  eyes 
of  fourteen  years  ago  were  faded  and  hollow,  and  painfully 
mournful. 

Bertha  was  wholly  subjugated  by  the  tender  light  that 
smiled  upon  her  from  their  sad  depths. 

"Dear  Horace,  if  God  will  spare  you  now,  I'll  never 
leave  you  again  so  long  as  we  both  shall  live." 

"Dear! "  he  gasped,  and  lay  very  still,  his  startled  heart 
shaking  the  covering  above  it,  and  his  starting  eyes  full  of 
half-incredulity. 

Then  he  caught  her  convulsively  to  his  breast,  and  laughed 
aloud,  with  tears  trickling  from  his  glad  eyes. 

"  I  believe  there  is  a  God,  now,  Bertha,  and  He  dwells  in 
your  heart ;  and  I  do  feel  grateful  for  this  mercy  in  my  last 
hours.  It  will  soften  the  sting  of  death.  I  should  have 
died  hard  and  hopeless  but  for  you,  my  Christian  wife ;  let 
this  truth  reward  you  for  your  goodness  to  your  unworthy 
husband  when  he  is  gone.  Dear,  I  shall  not  live  to  try  to 
make  you  as  happy  in  the  future  as  I  have  rendered  you 
wretched  in  the  past.  There  is  no  such  joy  for  me  on  earth, 
Bertha ;  I  have  sinned  too  grievously.  I  have  felt  that  I 
must  die  since  the  stony  hardness  left  my  heart ;  and  it  will 
be  easier,  now.  You  will  go  with  me  to  the  grave,  my  wife, 
and  —  what  then,  dear  ?  "  drawing  her  arm  under  his  head 
and  turning  his  face  to  her  bosom,  as  if  for  comfort  and 
encouragement  from  her  lips. 

"  And  then  there  is  One  who  is  '  able  and  willing  to  save 
to  the  uttermost  all  who  come  unto  Him,'  even  the  '  chief 
of  sinners  —  who  will  go  with  you  beyond,  if  you  will  lean 
upon  His  strong  arm  by  faith,  dear  Horace.  '  There  need 
not  one  be  left  behind,  for  God  hath  bidden  all  mankind.' " 

"  My  little  Blessing,  I  will  try  —  help  me. 

"  How  long  since  you  learned  to  trust  Him,  Bertha  ? " 
he  asked,  after  a  pause. 


328  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

"  Ten  years,  Horace.  If  I  had  possessed  grace  when  we 
were  married,  I  should  have  made  you  happier." 

"  Dear,  would  you  have  married  me  ? "  looking  up  ear- 
nestly into  her  thoughtful  eyes. 

Bertha  said  not  a  word,  but  a  gentle  shake  of  the  head 
answered  him. 

"  But  had  I  been  good  after  our  marriage,  Horace,  I 
might  have  produced  a  change  in  your  heart  by  my  Chris- 
tian example;  'for  the  unbelieving  husband  is  sanctified 
by  the  wife.'  I  did  not  submit  enough  — my  spirit  was  too 
proud  to  humble  itself  to  injustice.  I  felt  wronged,  and 
had  n't  the  meekness  to  yield  patiently.  Had  I  been  wholly 
submissive  to  your  will  from  the  beginning,  you  might  have 
required  fewer  sacrifices,  and  learned  to  be  less  exacting.  I 
feel  my  past  failings  now !  " 

"  Dear,  I  don't  see  them.  You  yielded  as  long  as  there 
was  any  hope.  Had  you  submitted  more,  I  should  probably 
have  crushed  your  life!  I  wonder  and  shudder  at  my 
wickedness,  now  that  Eternity  has  opened  my  eyes  to  see 
clearly  the  things  of  Time!  I  'in  a  monster  in  my  own 
eyes,  Bertha ! " 

"  Then  you  will  be  a  saint  in  heaven,  my  husband ! "  ex- 
claimed Bertha,  bursting  into  irrepressible  tears  of  joy. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

STANHOPE'S    MEETING    WITH    PERCY   ORMUND. 

DURING  the  intervals  of  rest  from  his  painful  wound, 
Horace  Stanhope  related  the  whole  of  his  history 
from  the  hour  of  her  abandonment  until  they  providentially 
met  ao-ain. 


BEAUTY.  329 

He  had  gone  to  Rochester  from  the  city  of  New  York, 
where  he  first  saw  Louisa  Demming.  The  young  girl  loved 
him,  and  made  no  effort  to  conceal  her  passion.  She  was 
wealthy,  and  presumed  upon  that  to  screen  her  from  the 
impropriety  of  forwardness. 

But  Horace  hoped  to  regain  Bertha,  and  did  not  conceal 
his  marriage.  Louisa  well-nigh  broke  her  heart  over  the 
information.  Horace  escaped  from  her  .vicinity  to  Buffalo, 
and,  as  usual,  became  involved  pecuniarily.  While  there, 
his  correspondence  with  Bertha  terminated  through  his  own 
impetuosity  and  want  of  foresight. 

"I  grew  desperate  then,  Bertha,"  he  said,  sadly,  "and 
resolved  to  marry  Louisa  for  her  wealth,  and  to  be  revenged 
upon  you  !  I  consulted  a  lawyer,  and  found  I  could  not  be  set 
at  liberty  to  marry  again,  under  the  law  of  that  State,  without 
charging  you  with  a  crime  that  I  knew  you  were  innocent 
of.  Bad  as  I  was,  I  could  not  do  that,  Bertha ;  but  I  did 
worse  for  Louisa :  I  married  her  illegally,  and  committed 
bigamy  !  She  thought  I  was  divorced,  and  so  did  Alonzo ; 
for  I  was  villain  enough  to  deceive  them  ! 

"  I  grew  reckless  after  I  married  her,  and  plunged  into 
dissipation  and  crime.  I  feared  to  remain  with  her  father, 
lest  he  should  learn  to  despise  me,  as  yours  did,  and  I 
should  lose  her  wealth.  I  took  her  to  Batavia,  and  while 
there,  I  wrote  you.  Had  you  given  me  any  encouragement, 
I  would  have  deserted  her  —  but  you  did  not  respond  to  my 
letter." 

"  I  thought  you  were  divorced,  Horace." 

"  Would  you  have  answered  me,  if  you  had  not  been  so 
informed,  dear  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.    I  never  meant  to  cast  you  off  wholly.    I  only 

wanted  rest.     I  was  tired  ;  and  I  thought  if  you  loved  me 

truly,  you  would  try  to  reform,  if  you  found  that  was  the 

only  way  to  succeed  in  your  hopes.     I  never  gave  you  up, 

28* 


330         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

until  you  threatened  me  with  a  divorce.  Then  hope  was 
consumed  in  the  flame  of  my  pride!  I  would  have  cor- 
responded with  you  till  now,  Horace." 

"  Oh,  Bertha,  what  a  blind  fool  and  villain  I  have  been  I" 
groaned  the  repentant  man. 

"  It  's  all  over  now,  Horace,"  she  said,  soothingly. 

"I  failed  in  Batavia,  and  absconded  with  Louisa  to 
Cleveland,  and  — " 

"  Engaged  in  the  photograph  business,"  she  said,  smil- 
ingly. 

"Dear?"  he  looked  up  at  her  in  astonishment. 

Bertha  told  him  all. 

"  I  never  heard  of  you  but  once,  Bertha,  after  I  married 
her ;  then  it  was  through  a  little  poem  copied  without  credit 
to  the  original  journal ;  and  it  broke  my  heart ! .  I  wTould 
have  written  you  then,  but  for  my  little  Bertha.  I  think 
she  was  all  that  prevented  me  from  deserting  Louisa  years 
ago.  Well  as  she  loved  me,  I  cared  nothing  for  her,  but 
took  pleasure  in  paining  her  heart  by  proving  my  indiffer- 
ence. I  learned  then  how  hard  it  was  for  you  to  love  me 
simply  because  I  worshipped  you.  After  her  father's  death, 
I  obtained  possession  of  her  wealth,  and  in  three  years  it 
was  all  squandered,  and  we  were  poor  as  when  we  left 
Batavia  !  But  she  never  complained,  and  loved  me  through 
all  —  poor  Louisa!  When  Lincoln  ordered  the  draft,  I 
escaped  to  Canada  to  avoid  it ;  and  there  my  little  darling 
died. 

"  Instead  of  softening,  it  made  me  harder,  Bertha.  I 
grew  savage  and  furious,  and  wreaked  my  vengeance  upon 
the  suffering  and  helpless  mother !  I  told  her  all,  in  my 
wild  agony,  and  her  heart  broke  before  they  buried  our 
child!  They  sleep  side  by.  side  now  on  British  soil,  and 
their  spirits  are  happy  in  heaven.  I  think  there  is  a 
heaven  now,  Bertha ;  and  I  believe  God  and  you,  my  good 
little  wife,  are  helping  me  to  find  it ! 


331 

"Then  I  returned  to  the  States,  and  enlisted  for  the  war. 
I  was  doubly  desperate.  I  had  lost  you  and  my  little  girl, 
and  life  was  a  burden.  I  hated  myself  now,  and  all  man- 
kind—  except  you,  dear.  I  never  thought  of  you,  Bertha, 
without  a  longing  desire  to  take  you  in  my  arms,  and  hear 
you  say  you  forgave  me  before  I  died.     Dear,  say  it  now." 

"I  do  forgive  you,  Horace,"  striving  to  repress  the  tears. 

"  But  I  hated  your  father  and  brother,  Bertha,  as  much 
as  I  loved  you.  I  thought  I  owed  all  my  misery  to  them, 
forgetting  it  was  through  their  influence  that  I  obtained 
your  hand. 

"I  fancied  you  had  gone  South,  knowing  your  Southern 
principles  ;  and  in  my  first  and  last  battle  I  looked  for 
Claude  in  the  Rebel  ranks.  Had  I  seen  him  there,  I  would 
have  strained  every  nerve  to  reach  his  heart  before  that 
brave  Ormund  paralyzed  my  own  !  Dear,  you  are  deathly 
pale  !     Do  you  hate  me  now,  Bertha  ? " 

"  No,  Horace ;  but  it  hurts  me  to  think  of  the  past.  You 
don't  feel  so  now  ?  " 

"  No,  dear ;  the  bitterness  has  all  gone  from  my  soul.  I 
feel  no  unkindness  for  any  one  now;  and  I  would  sooner  be 
butchered  by  Claude  than  strike  a  blow  that  would  reach 
your  heart." 

"  Do  you  feel  no  hardness  towards  him  who  has  laid  you 
here,  Horace?  " 

"  No,  Bertha.  It  was  the  fate  of  war.  He  was  doing  his 
duty,  he  thought,  towards  his  'native  South';  and  I  was 
fighting  for  revenge,  and  not  from  patriotism  ! " 

"  How  did  you  know  him  among  so  many,  Horace?  " 

" Him,  dear? — '  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave? '  They  swear 
by  his  name  in  the  Union  army  !  and  the  man  who  brings 
him  down,  if  he  is  known,  will  be  immortalized  ;  and  if  he 
escapes,  God  will  be  his  shield,  for  our  men  long  for  his 
life  —  he  's  a  terror  to  his  foes,  and  a  target  for  thousands  I 


332  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 

Jwounded  him,  Bertha,  and  he  returned  good  for  evil,  by- 
letting  out  my  stony  nature  with  the  edge  of  his  sword.  I 
thank  him  for  the  wound  that  has  given  you  back  to  my 
arms.     How  you  tremble,  my  little  wife !  " 

"  I  am  nervous.    Did  you  wound  him  seriously,  Horace?  " 

"  I  thought  him  dead  till  after  the  battle,  for  I  saw  him 
fall  from  his  horse  and  carried  from  the  field.  Oh,  you 
should  have  seen  him,  Bertha ;  he  was  glorious  in  battle. 
He  is  very  tall,  and  flashed  along  the  lines  on  a  shining 
black  fiery  steed,  like  an  avenging  spirit !  If  there  was  an 
unyielding  point  in  our  front,  Colonel  Orrnund  had  only  to 
dash  down  upon  it  with  his  magical  battle-cry,  '  God,  and 
our  native  South ! '  and  the  solid  phalanx  was  broken  as  if 
by  superhuman  power!  And  wherever  there  is  a  strong 
point,  '  Colonel  Orrnund  the  Brave '  is  invariably  found  • 
and  he  gallops  through  the  fiery  shower  of  shot  and  shell 
as  though  panoplied  with  impenetrable  armor!  Our  men 
fear  him  —  they  say  he  possesses  a  charmed  life ;  and 
wherever  he  carries  it  upon  the  field,  the  enemy  weakens 
and  gives  back  !  " 

"  But  you  wounded  him,  Horace,  perhaps  mortally !" 

"  No,  dear,  not  mortally.  He  came  to  me  after  the  battle, 
and  ministered  to  my  wants  like  an  angel  of  mercy." 

"  Horace !  "  with  reddening  cheeks  and  starting  eyes. 

"  He  seemed  to  grow  reckless  when  his  men  fell  back  and 
fled  in  disorder,  Bertha.  He  dashed  over  the  field,  vainly 
trying  to  rally  them  ;  but  as  our  boys  pressed  on  and  car- 
ried dismay  and  death  into  the  Rebel  ranks,  he  appeared  to 
court  destruction  with  the  rout  of  his  troops,  and  rushed 
into  the  hottest  of  the  fire  —  and  with  such  a  face,  Bertha ! 
It  was  like  rock !  I  don't  know  why  it  was,  but  my  eyes 
followed  him  over  the  field  —  he  charmed  me. 

"  He  is  a  North  Carolinian,  Bertha.  Our  regiment  cap- 
tured his  State  flag,  and  Colonel  Orrnund  was  like  'a  bear 


333 

robbed  of  her  whelps.'  He  dashed  headlong  over  the  dead 
and  dying  through  storms  of  leaden  hail  and  leaping  fire, 
and  re-captured  it,  with  a  sweep  of  his  sparkling  sword  that 
sent  the  daring  boy  in  blue  to  his  long  home ! 

"It  was  then  I  succeeded  in  reaching  him.  I  saw  him 
leaping  along  the  plain  on  his  foaming  war-steed,  with  that 
face  of  marble  and  drawn  sword  ;  and  heard  his  startling 
battle-cry :  '  God,  and  our  native  South  ! '  as  he  cut  down 
the  capturer,  and  grasped  the  fluttering  flag  ;  and  I  aimed 
steadily  at  the  gallant  Rebel,  and  fired.  I  had  nerve  there, 
Bertha ;  despair  had  rendered  me  fearless.  Our  men  were 
giving  back  before  his  prancing  and  leaping  steed  and 
death -dealing  sword;  and  he  discovered  his  would- be - 
destroyer. 

"I  saw  him  waver  a  moment,  and  the  flag  went  down; 
"but  he  caught  it  under  his  arm,  and  plunged  after  me.  I 
met  his  blazing  eye,  and  caught  his  terrible  shout,  '  God, 
and  our  native  South ! '  as  he  dashed  after  me,  and  I  turned 
to  fly  in  mortal  terror.  It  was  the  first  feeling  of  fear  I  had 
realized  since  I  entered  the  army. 

"  But  I  could  not  escape  his  strong  and  brave  arm,  and 
his  steel  went  through  my  granite  side  and  laid  the  villain 
low  ! 

"  Our  men  had  fallen  back,  and  left  the  front  clear  ;  and 
I  saw  my  conqueror  bounding  away  towards  his  scattered 
troops  ;  and,  Bertha,  I  sat  up  and  discharged  the  second 
barrel  of  my  rifle  at  him.  I  yearned  for  his  life ;  and  I 
was  happy  when  I  saw  horse  and  rider  go  down,  and  his 
men  rush  in  and  bear  him  off! 

"Then  I  fell  back,  dead  to  all  sight  and  sound. 

"  When  I  awoke  to  consciousness,  the  dead  were  heaped 
around  me,  and  all  was  still  under  the  gloomy  night-sky.  I 
crawled  away  to  a  clump  of  evergreens,  and  lay  down,  as 
I  thought  to  die  ;  but  I  was  hard  as  adamant  yet. 


334 

"  I  heard  groans  not  far  away  through  the  long,  long 
night ;  and  when  the  morning  came,  I  found  a  wounded 
Rebel  in  the  shade  of  the  young  pines  that  was  my  retreat. 
He  was  shot  in  the  ankle,  and  cut  on  the  arm.  I  was  glad 
I  was  not  alone,  and  we  grew  familiar  while  waiting  three 
weary  days  and  nights  for  help.  We  had  a  little  food  ;  he 
had  water,  and  I  bad  whiskey,  and  we  managed  to  live 
through  that  terrible  time,  until  Ormund  and  Walter  Eldon 
came  to  our  aid." 

"  Horace !    Walter  Eldon  ?  —  poor  Edalia  !  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  Walter  Eldon.  We  saw  them  coming  through 
the  twilight,  evidently  looking  for  some  one  among  the 
fallen  men.  My  companion  shouted  '  Walter ! '  and  they 
dashed  up,  with  an  answering  shout,  at  the  well-known 
sound. 

"My  fellow-sufferer  was  Charles  Chester,  Bertha;  and 
Captain  Eldon  was  searching  for  his  friend." 

"  Oh,  Horace !  will  he  die  ?  It  would  break  Minnie's 
heart ! " 

"Dear,  I  hope  not.  He  was  a  good  fellow,  though  a 
staunch  Rebel.  He  defended  his  faith  as  well  as  any  man 
could,  and  I  knew  he  was  honest  in  his  belief.  As  for  me,, 
it  was  not  principle  I  was  fighting  for,  but  from  prejudice. 
I  hated  the  South,  and  longed  to  grind  it  to  powder.  But 
Lieutenant  Chester  was  '  proving  his  faith  by  his  works/ 
You  should  have  seen  Eldon  when  he  discovered  me,  Bertha. 
He  recoiled  as  if  from  a  serpent,  and  ejaculated : 

"  '  Horace  Stanhope !  —  great  heavens  !  ' 

" '  Yes,'  I  said,  bitterly,  '  I  am  Horace  Stanhope,  killed, 
at  last,  by  a  Southern  hand.  There  —  your  Colonel  is  my 
murderer! ' 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  face  as  that  Ormund  had,  Bertha. 
I  could  not  define  its  expression.  The  blood  rushed  over 
it,  and  left  it  in  an  instant  white  as  death.     Then  he  reeled, 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  335 

ami  leaned  on  Eklon  a  moment.  I  wondered  that  he  should 
feel  so  for  a  fatal  blow  given  to  a  foe  in  battle. 

"  Dear,  that  noble  man  first  softened  my  stony  heart ! 
The  rock  has  been  mouldering  away  since  that  hour !  You 
have  finished  the  work  that  he  began  ! 

"  He  knelt  down  there,  Bertha,  and  dressed  the  wound  he 
had  made  with  hands  gentle  as  a  mother's  ;  speaking  words 
of  comfort  and  hope  to  a  fallen  foe  who  had  given  him  the 
first  blow  ! 

"  I  told  him  so,  and  he  smiled  strangely,  saying  he  '  car- 
ried no  feelings  of  revenge  and  animosity  away  from  the 
battle-ground.  He  was  in  arms  for  the  defence  of  his  strug- 
gling native  South,  and  cherished  no  personal  unkindness 
for  those  who  were  fighting  to  subjugate  it.  Away  from  the 
battle-field  he  forgot  we  were  his  foes ! ' 

"I  had  never  heard  such  a  sentiment  as  that  expressed 
before,  Bertha,  and  it  struck  me  dumb.  I  knew  our  men 
thirsted  for  his  blood,  in  calm  as  well  as  storm ;  and  I  felt 
warm  toward  the  strange  man. 

"  He  placed  me  as  comfortably  as  possible,  put  a  knap- 
sack under  my  head,  and  covered  me  with  a  blanket ;  filled 
my  canteen  with  water,  and  with  cheering  words  to  his  foe, 
directing  me  to  a  better  world  beyond  this ;  and  promising 
me  speedy  aid  from  my  own  men,  he  went  away,  bearing 
my  late  companion  with  him.*  Why  do  you  weep  so, 
Bertha,  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Horace,  it 's  enough  to  break  a  heart  of  stone  !  " 

"  Yes,  dear ;  and  it  broke  mine !  That  man  sent  informa- 
tion to  our  army  by  flag  of  truce,  Bertha,  and  our  men,  ere 
long,  bore  me  away  from  the  clump  of  pines.  I  became 
delirious,  then,  and  when  I  awoke  to  reason  I  was  in  your 
home.     '  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave '  sent  me  to  you  by  a 

*  A  truth ;  related  to  the  author  by  a  wounded  Federal  soldier  who 
died  in  hospital. 


336  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

blow  in  defence  of  his '  native  South,'  to  receive  your  pardon 
for  wrongs  in  this  world,  before  I  go  to  another.  I  know, 
now,  the  bravest  in  war  are  the  kindest  in  peace  ;  and  those 
we  think  wrong,  are  fighting  hard  from  a  feeling  sense  of 
duty  and  right.  The  result  of  the  war  will  doubtless  go 
against  the  South ;  but  they  are  a  brave  people  in  battle, 
and  humane  to  their  fallen  foes.  I  can  testify  to  #that, 
Bertha." 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

OLD   FRIENDS   AND    WAR-TIMES   IN    BERTH A?S    EARLY 
HOME. 

WALTER  ELDON  and  Charles  Chester  were  gone  to 
the  war  as  captain  and  lieutenant,  and  the  old  men 
and  mourning  wife  of  Walter  sat  in  Mr.  Redmond's  home, 
watching  for  the  return  of  the  soldiers  and  Minnie,  the 
wounded  man's  wife.  Minnie  had  gone  to  Richmond  to 
accompany  her  husband  home,  and  Walter  had  obtained  a 
furlough  for  the  same  purpose. 

There  was  no  longer  music  and  mirth,  dancing  eyes,  and 
playful  fingers  in  Edalia's  home.  Clouds  of  care  and  tears 
of  torturing  suspense  had  dimmed  and  darkened  the  olden 
brightness  and  bloom.  Their  negroes  were  all  gone,  saving 
Di  and  her  old  Christian  mother,  and  a  faithful  old  servant 
of  Dr.  Montrose,  who  had  grown  up  with  him.  Even  petted 
Dick  had  gone  off  with  the  Yankees,  through  fear  of  being 
"  sold  down  South  if  he  did  n't  escape  to  the  North  with  his 
best  friends!" 

They  had  experienced  a  trying  time  since  the  first  gun- 
boat of  the  enemy  steamed  up  the  Roanoke  and  tarried  at 
"  Redmond's  Landing."     Negroes  from  the  "  low  grounds  " 


BEAUTY.  337 

and  "  back  country  "  had  hurried  to  their  Northern  liberators, 
bearing  with  them  all  they  could  steal  from  their  masters. 
The  Federal  gunboats  swarmed  with  white  teeth  shining 
through  thick  lips  on  black  faces  ;  and  their  late  owners 
felt  relieved  when  they  were  gone. 

The  Union  soldiers  wandered  through  the  country  in 
quest  of  arms  and  eatables  —  "  beauty  and  booty  "  —  and 
they  did  not  return  empty.  The  aristocratic  residences 
around  our  heroine's  old  home  made  their  eyes  snap  with 
satisfaction.  Pigs  and  poultry,  kine  and  sheep,  became 
scarce  in  that  section,  before  the  Yankee  gunboats,  laden 
with  patriotism,  "  fired  up  "  and  put  back  to  Plymouth. 

Edalia  and  Minnie  had  heard  the  great  guns  bombarding 
Williamsville  and  Hamil  as  they  came  up,  and  soon  learned 
our  Bertha's  town-home  of  other  years  was  laid  in  ruins. 

But  they  trembled  more  when  the  brave  defenders  of  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  came  to  their  residence  to  search  the 
premises  for  hidden  arms  and  ammunition.  They  would 
have  been  content  had  the  enemy  in  blue  captured  only 
"  contraband  articles ;  "  and  wondered  if  it  were  considered 
"  treason  "  to  possess  silverware  and  silk  clothing !  If  it 
were,  our  friends  were  guiltless  of  the  crime  when  the 
patriots  were  gone ! 

And  they  wondered,  too,  if  "Uncle  Sam's  "purse  would 
be  benefited  by  the  wealth  that  had  been  taken  possession 
of  "  in  the  name  of  the  Federal  Government,"  —  but  they 
never  knew. 

Walter  Eldon's  hat  was  captured  by  Union,  and  fitted 
perfectly.  Soldier  concluded,  if  the  cap  fit  he  'd  wear  it ; 
and  put  his  brass-lettered  head-piece  in  his  pocket. 

"  You  don't  want  that ! "  exclaimed  Edalia,  with  open 
eyes. 

"  Guess  I  dew,"  said  Yank,  spitting  lustily  upon  the  carpet 
and  rubbing  it  in  with  his  shoe,  covered  with  river-mud. 
29  W 


338         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"Oh,  don't  take  my  husband's  hat!"  pleaded  the  poor 
-wife,  whose  loving  heart  ached  at  the  thought  of  losing  any- 
thing that  Walter  used  to  wear. 

"  Your  husband  is  a  Rebel,  fighting  against  his  Govern- 
ment, d him ! "  snarled  Patriotism,  who  was  wearing 

his  Government's  insignia,  and  stealing  for  himself. 

"  But  he  would  n't  rob  your  wife  of  your  hat  in  your 
absence,"  returned  Edalia,  with  tearful  eyes. 

"  That 's  so,  by !    We  '11  knock  the  blazes  out  'n  the 

traitor  'fore  he  gits  up  tew  our  house  —  haw,  haw ! "  bring- 
ing one  big  yellow  fist  down  upon  the  other  hard,  freckled 
hand,  exultingly,  and  nauseating  the  apartment  with  his 
brandy-tinctured  breath. 

Edalia  appealed  to  the  officer  in  command,  who  remon- 
strated with  the  soldier,  and  eventually  prevailed  upon  him 
to  put  the  hat  down.  Private  relinquished  it  with  a  scowl, 
and  repaid  himself  for  the  sacrifice  in  another  quarter. 

Every  drawer,  nook,  and  corner  was  rummaged ;  and 
Edalia  wondered  if  they  looked  for  war  implements  in  the 
little  pill-boxes  they  examined  so  carefully.  Perhaps  they 
hunted  for  percussion-caps,  she  concluded. 

Unfortunately,  she  had  left  her  purse  in  a  bureau-drawer, 
and  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  hat-admirer. 

Union  Brass-buttons  pounced  upon  it  like  a  hawk  upon 
a  young  brood,  and  no  entreaties  or  arguments  could  pre- 
vail upon  him  to  relinquish  his  prize.      He  walked    off, 

chuckling  over  the  "  haul "  he  'd  made  "  out  'n  that  d 

Rebel  in  the  big  house!" 

Federal  officer  did  n't  interfere  this  time.  Perhaps  he 
thought  it  was  too  much  like  "  slavery  "  to  make  a  man  do 
his  duty  twice  in  one  day.  Edalia  was  robbed  of  every 
dollar  she  had  at  command,  by  men  who  were  fighting 
gallantly  for  their  country  /* 
*True  incidents  of  the  war,  related  to  the  author  by  the  sufferer. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  339 

Edalia  heard  a  scream  from  Di,  and  following  the  sound, 
saw  the  girl  struggling  in  the  grasp  of  a  boy  in  blue,  who 
was  endeavoring  to  persuade  her  to  accompany  him  to  the 
boat. 

Di  was  a  lady-like  house-maid,  and  Philanthropist  thought 
it  hard  she  should  remain  in  her  present  state  of  bondage. 
He  resolved  to  break  her  chains  by  force,  if  she  was  too 
simple  to  throw  them  off. 

Di  gave  him  her  fist,  without  being  particular  where,  and 
Free-soil  secured  the  pugilistic  hand.  Then  the  girl  screamed 
with  terror. 

"If  you're  opposed  to  slavery,  I  should  suppose  you 
would  be  willing  to  leave  the  girl  free  to  act  for  herself. 
She  can  go  North  or  remain  South,  just  as  she  prefers,"  said 
Mr.  Redmond,  dryly. 

"  D your  Rebel  soul !  I'll  give  yeou  slavery! "  shouted 

Yank,  snatching  a  pistol  from  his  belt  and  discharging  it  at 
the  old  man's  head,  luckily  without  hitting  the  mark. 

Di  screamed  louder,  and  fell  down  in  mortal  fear ;  while 
Edalia  uttered  a  shriek  of  apprehension  for  her  uncle,  and 
little  Edward  and  Eva  made  up  a  startling  chorus. 

Officer  arrested  private,  and  sent  him  under  guard  to  the 
gunboat.  There  was  no  money  at  stake,  and  he  did  his  duty 
once  more. 

This  was  the  last  time  the  Federal  gunboats  ascended  to 
"Redmond's  Landing."  The  whole  country  around  was 
desolated,  and  there  was  nothing  more  for  the  locusts  of 
war  to  eat. 

They  had  killed  Mr.  Redmond's  last  milch-cow.  She  was 
shot  down  by  Patriotism  before  Edalia's  eyes,  the  day  it 
captured  her  purse;  and  there  was  little  left,  after  their 
departure,  for  nature  to  subsist  upon. 

The  word  "  rebel "  was  a  passport  to  outrage  whenever  a 
Southern  man  possessed  aught  that  Patriotism  coveted;  and 


340  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

it  became  a  parrot-note  throughout  the  whole  region  of 
"  Dixie." 

"  Jones's  Store  "  was  sacked,  although  the  proprietor  was 
a  foreigner  without  a  relative,  and  had  never  been  in  the 
Southern  army ;  but  there  was  whiskey  under  the  roof,  and 
Patriotism's  throat  was  dry  from  fighting  so  bravely  for  its 
country  ;  therefore  the  merchant  was  a  "  rebel/'  and,  conse- 
quently, robbed. 

Nearly  five  years  of  struggling  life  had  gone,  and  the 
hopes  of  the  "  Confederacy "  had  gone  with  them.  The 
South  had  given  its  Northern  enemies  an  opportunity  to 
rob  it  of  its  wealth,  and  gained  nothing  to  compensate  it  for 
the  loss.  They  were  poor  in  purse,  and  poorer  in  spirit, 
when  old  year  Sixty-Four  went  out,  and  Sixty-Five  came  in. 

Charles  Chester  had  been  in  hospital  three  months,  before 
he  could  be  removed  to  his  home.  This  was  the  third  wound 
he  had  received  in  the  Southern  cause,  and  the  most  severe. 

Walter  had  escaped  with  slight  cuts  and  bruises  from 
fragments  of  shell. 

Peter  Simpkins  was  second  lieutenant  in  Walter's  com- 
pany ;  lost  an  arm  the  first  year  of  the  war,  and  his  pride 
was  forever  humbled.  He  was  more  endurable  after  than 
before  his  misfortune.  Peter  was  still  a  bachelor  at  forty, 
but  was  about  to  marry  his  cousin. 

Rosa  Simpkins,  Peter's  affianced,  was  neither  handsome, 
talented,  nor  rich,  but  amiable  and  devotedly  pious  —  the 
very  one  to  help  Peter  on  to  a  better  world  ;  and  he  learned 
to  appreciate  her  when  his  high  head  was  brought  low  by  the 
hissing  bombshell  that  carried  away  his  right  arm. 

"  Bertha  the  Beauty,"  in  childhood,  had  heard  Rosy  say 
to  her  leader  in  a  Methodist  class-meeting,  one  day,  she 
"  wanted  all  the  religion  she  could  get."  And  it  was  thought 
she  tried  hard,  and  succeeded. 

Colonel  Henley  was  killed  in  the  first'  battle  at  Bull  Run, 


THE    BEAUTY.  341 

and  Mrs.  Wilmer  Tomlin  Henley  was  ready  for  a  third 
victim.  But  her  chances  for  success  were  painfully  slim, 
now  that  all  her  portable  property  had  gone  down  the 
Roanoke  in  a  Union  gunboat,  with  men  who  were  fighting 
for  their  country  and  feathering  their  nests. 

Dora  was  the  wife  of  a  Confederate  general  and  the  mo- 
ther of  five  children.     She  looked  old  and  care-worn. 

Mrs.  Colonel  Wilmer  was  broken  in  spirit.  The  loss  of 
her  wealth  broke  her  heart,  figuratively;  but  her  "fire  was 
not  quenched." 

Colonel  Wilmer  was  a  Whig  and  staunch  Union  man 
from  the  dawn  of  Secession ;  but  it  did  n't  save  his  property. 
It  went  down  the  Roanoke  with  Patriotism  in  a  Federal 
gunboat  propelled  by  loyal  steam,  because  the  Colonel  was 
a  "  rebel !  "  He  retained  his  land,  simply  because  it  could 
not  be  conveniently  carried  down  the  river. 

Dora  drove  up  to  Mr.  Redmond's,  to  hear  news  from  her 
husband,  the  day  the  soldiers  were  expected  home.  Her 
turnout  was  extremely  interesting  —  an  old  creaking  cart, 
with  an  older  mule  attached,  who  looked  down  in  the  mouth 
as  mule  could  well  look  at  his  advanced  age.  Her  oldest 
boy  of  eleven  was  the  driver. 

There  was  not  a  carriage,  horse,  cow,  or  pig  left  in  all 
that  section,  if  it  were  worth  transporting  and  could  be 
found. 

To  Dora's  great  joy,  her  husband  accompanied  the  cap- 
tain and  lieutenant.  He  had  "  run  down"  from  Richmond 
for  a  few  days,  to  see  the  wounded  soldier  safe  and  visit  his 
family.     It  was  a  glad  surprise  to  all  parties. 

There  were  happier  hearts  under  Mr.  Redmond's  roof, 
that  first  day  of  Sixty-five,  than  had  gathered  beneath 
it  in  many  a  dark  month  gone  by. 

They  saw  the  end  of  the  war  not  far  away;  and  though 
it  would  not  bring  independence  to  the  "Southern  Confed- 
29* 


342  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

eracy,"  it  would  bring  peace  to  the  country,  and  friends  back 
to  their  mourning  homes. 

They  would  be  a  conquered  people,  but  the  world  would 
acknowledge  them  a  brave  one.  They  had  fought  valiantly 
in  a  hopeless  cause,  and  failed  through  inferior  numbers, 
and  an  enemy  in  their  midst. 

The  world  wondered  that  they  had  "  held  out  so  long." 
Their  strength  was  crushed,  but  their  soul  was  not  humbled. 
Their  native  and  sectional  pride  burned  brighter  than  ever 
before.  They  gloried  in  "  State  Rights "  and  "  Southern 
chivalry,"  and  their  mental  and  moral  superiority  to  the 
"fag  ends"  with  whom  they  had  fought.  They  had  been 
pushed  into  rebellion  by  Northern  aggression  upon  Southern 
rights,  and  lost  their  property  and  rights  by  attempting  to 
vindicate  their  honor.  Whatever  the  result  might  be  —  and 
they  had  no  doubt  of  it  now  —  they  would  accept  it  in  as 
good  faith  as  they  had  wielded  the  sword  to  defend  their 
Southern  soil  and  desolated  homes'. 

"  Might  had  conquered  right,"  in  their  estimation ;  the 
wheel  of  fortune  had  stuck  in  the  mud,  and  though  they 
had  given  their  shoulder  to  remove  it,  no  Jupiter  had  come 
to  their  assistance.  Thousands  had  fallen  in  the  ineffectual 
effort  to  push  forward  the  car,  and  they  were  hopeless  of 
being  able  to  extricate  it  with  the  force  that  remained  ;  for 
the  day  of  miracles  was  long  past.  They  scorned  the  name 
of  "  traitor"  and  "  rebel  "  as  much  as  they  despised  those  of 
"abolitionist"  and  "  Black  Republican."  But  for  the  last 
two,  they  would  never  have  received  the  first. 

"That  Carolina  Colonel  Ormund  is  a  brave  fellow,  by 
Jupiter!"  said  Mr.  Redmond,  with  something  of  his  olden 
humor.  "  Gone  right  up,  almost  to  the  top  notch  of  distinc- 
tion; while  you,  cowardly  dogs,  have  held  your  own!  " 

"  There's  luck  in  odd  numbers,"  returned  Walter, smiling, 
"and  Percy  refuses  to  change  it  for  a  higher-sounding  title. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  343 

Might  have  been  General  now,  but  he  declined  the  honor, 
after  the  battle  of  Winchester,  for  some  unaccountable 
cause.  Says  he  prefers  the  Colonel  as  a  handle  to  his  name; 
but  I  'm  inclined  to  the  belief,  something  covert  induced  the 
declension." 

"Well,  that's  a  strange  piece  of  business!  Got  a  wound 
in  Winchester  —  bad  one  ?  " 

"Not  very.  It  healed  in  a  month.  The  only  wound  he 's 
received  in  battle  that  required  nursing  despite  his  brave 
daring.  And  that  came  from  that  rascal  Horace  Stan- 
hope !  " 

Mr.  Redmond  came  to  his  feet  as  though  lifted  by  elec- 
tricity. He  looked  wild,  and  completely  bewildered  for 
some  moments,  staring  at  Walter  with  vacant  eyes.  Then  he 
ran  his  fingers  through  his  gray  hair,  as  though  collecting 
his  scattered  thoughts,  and  sat  down  slowly  and  dreamily. 

The  company  was  struck  by  his  strange  manner  and 
appearance. 

"  Percy  Ormund  wounded  by  Horace  Stanhope,  did  you 
say?  "  inquired  the  old  man,  soberly. 

"I  said  so,  uncle.  He  wounded  him  in  the  arm,  and 
then  lamed  his  horse.  Like  to  have  broken  the  Colonel's 
neck  by  the  fall,  too  ! " 

"  If  he  'd  killed  him,  I  might  have  thought  something," 
said  Mr.  Redmond,  gazing  into  the  fire  absently. 

"  What  would  you  have  thought,  Uncle  Ned  ?  "  Minnie's 
curiosity  was  wide  awake  now. 

"Oh,  never  mind.  I  don't  tell  my  thoughts  to  such  leaky 
mouths,  by  Jupiter!    And  so  that  rascal  is  alive  yet,  eh?" 

"  I  don't  know,  sir  ;  he  was  badly  wounded." 

"Hey?"  The  old  man's  eyes  dilated.  "How  do  you 
know,  I  say  ?  " 

"  I  saw  him  after  the  battle,  while  looking  for  Charles.  Per- 
cy, I  think,  gave  him  his  death-blow.    It  was  a  bad  gash  ! " 


344 

"Percy  —  Percy  Ormuncl  killed  Horace  Stanhope?" 
Mr.  Redmond  had  risen  from  his  chair,  and  leaned  on  the 
back  of  it,  with  a  countenance  that  puzzled  the  observers. 

"  Percy  wounded  him  with  his  sword,  after  Stanhope  had 
shot  him  in  the  left  arm.  The  fellow  looked  like  a  fury 
when  he  pointed  to  Percy,  and  said,  'There,  your  Colonel 
is  my  murderer ! '  " 

"  And  Percy  —  did  he  know  him  ? " 

"Never  saw  him  till  then,  and  only  knew  his  name 
through  my  astonished  exclamation.  But  I  never  saw  such 
a  face  as  he  exhibited  when  Stanhope  called  him  his  mur- 
derer. I  never  knew  him  to  tremble  until  he  leaned  on  my 
shoulder,  then." 

"Ha,  ha!" 

"  Why,  Uncle  Ned  !  "  exclaimed  Minnie,  in  amazement. 

"And  you  think  Stanhope  will  die  ? "  inquired  the  old  man, 
without  noticing  her  surprised  face  or  impulsive  language. 

"  I  think  he  can  hardly  recover,  under  the  circumstances ; 
if  it  were  a  curable  cut,  under  the  most  favorable." 

And  Walter  related  the  whole  story  to  eager  listeners. 

"  Did  the  Colonel  know  his  patient  was  the  ex-husband 
of  an  old-time  friend  ? "  asked  Mr.  Redmond,  soberly,  with 
shut  eyes. 

"  I  found  that  he  did  ;  but  how  he  learned  it  I  could  not 
discover,  though  I  tried  to  draw  him  out ;  but  I  suppose  it 
was  through  her  writings,  as  an  author's  history  is  pretty 
apt  to  be  dragged  before  the  public,  if  it 's  any  ways  peculiar 
—  and  Percy  is  very  familiar  with  her  works,  and  one  of 
her  greatest  admirers." 

"  Is  Percy  married  ? "  inquired  the  old  man,  coolly. 

"No,  sir  —  never  was." 

"  Why,  Uncle  Ned,  you  blush  like  a  girl ! "  laughed 
Minnie,  clapping  her  hands. 

"Oh!  I  see  it   now  —  he 's  jealous  of  the  Colonel !     If 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  345 

Stanhope  dies,  Esquire  Redmond  is  going  up  after  '  Bertha 
the  Beauty,'  and  he  's  mortally  afraid  of  being  cut  out  by 
1  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave! '  —  say,  Uncle  Ned  ? " 

11  Hum  !  "  grunted  '  Uncle  Ned,'  as  he  laid  himself  back 
in  his  chair,  turned  up  his  nose,  and  sniffed,  in  smiling 
disgust. 

"Young  folks,"  said  the  old  man,  seriously,  "'there's 
a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends,  roughhew  them  as  we  will.' 
You  think  you  're  doing  your  duty  as  soldiers,  and  the 
Yankees  think  they  're  doing  theirs,  (some  of  'em.)  But 
the  Lord  knoivs  what  is  right,  and  I  believe  He  will  do  what 
is  best  for  us  all.  I  reckon  the  Confederacy  is  going  to  wreck, 
but  it  won't  carry  us  all  with  it.  I  think  we  shall  be  able 
to  survive,  and  some  hearts  will  swim  ashore  from  the 
foundered  ship,  and  not  grieve  long  over  its  loss.  They  will 
see  it  only  carried  them  over  the  waters  to  a  better  land. 
You  say  the  Colonel  is  pious  ?  " 

"  I  never  saw  a  more  practically  pious  man,  sir  ;  and  that 
is  the  secret  of  his  bravery.  He  feels  he  is  doing  his  duty, 
and  is  prepared  to  go  into  eternity  when  the  summons 
comes ;  and  he  is  not  afraid  to  die.  I  never  saw  a  man  so 
fearless  of  exposure ;  and  it  is  a  marvel  how  he  has  escaped." 

"  '  The  Lord  is  a  shield  and  buckler.'  I  reckon  it  '11  all 
come  out  right,"  said  the  old  man,  musingly,  with  a  mystery 
shining  about  his  mouth. 

"  What  will  ?  "  asked  Minnie,  with  curious  eyes. 

"  Oh,  a  good  many  things,  if  they  work  well  —  'specially 
two." 

"  I  never  did  see  such  a  man  !  "  said  Minnie,  shaking  her 
shoulders  impatiently,  with  a  wrinkle  between  her  half-shut 
eyes  —  "there  's  no  getting  anything  out  of  you,  for  love  or 
money ! " 

"  Oh,  I  'm  safe  as  a  thief  in  a  mill,  by  Jupiter ! "  and 
Mr.  Redmond  put  his  hand  on  his  mouth,  and  winked  over 
his  shoulder,  so  that  Minnie  could  see. 


346  BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER  LVIL 

THE  LAST  OF  EARTH.  —  BERTH a's  PRESENTIMENT. 

MR.  OLNEY,  the  chaplain,  was  a  constant  attendant 
beside  the  cot  of  Horace  Stanhope.  Bertha  would 
have  removed  her  penitent  husband  to  her  home,  with  her 
parents'  sanction  —  who  had  visited  their  son-in-law  at  the 
hospital  and  convinced  themselves  of  his  sincerity  —  had 
his  situation  rendered  it  prudent.  But  the  old  surgeon 
absolutely  forbade  it  "  for  the  present." 

Bertha  believed  he  would  recover,  from  the  surgeon's 
evasive  replies  to  her  inquiries ;  but  Mr.  Olney  knew  the 
doctor's  opinion  better  than  she  was  permitted  to  learn  ;  and 
when  the  seventh  sun  arose  upon  his  living  but  suffering 
form,  Bertha  felt  the  danger  was  past. 

Horace  smiled  very  sweetly  when  she  expressed  her  feel- 
ings with  this  regard  —  as  he  had  never  smiled  upon  her  in 
years  gone  by  —  but  he  did  not  encourage  the  thought.  He 
felt  more  than  she  could  comprehend.  But  her  hopeful 
eyes  alleviated  his  pains. 

"Dear,"  he  said,  tenderly,  "it  would  be  sweet  to  live, 
now  that  I  have  you  ;  but  if  it 's  God's  will,  I  am  ready  to 
die.  I  am  not  afraid  now,  my  sweet  wife.  I  might  make 
you  unhappy  again  if  I  should  be  restored  —  He  only 
knows  —  and  I  would  rather  die  now  than  do  that,  Bertha. 
Dear,  I  have  done  too  wickedly  for  you  to  love  me  now, 
well  enough  to  suffer  much  when  I  am  gone;  but  you  will 
love  me  always  when  we  meet  again.  You  have  taught  me 
how  to  die.     Let  that  comfort  you  until  you  come  to  me." 

And   then  Horace  Stanhope   fell  asleep,  with  her   arm 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         347 

under  his  head,  and  his  last  kiss  upon  her  lips  —  asleep  from 
the  excruciating  pains  that  racked  his  emaciated  form. 

"  Bettair  take  vous  arm  from  under  de  head,  now,"  said 
the  old  surgeon,  kindly,  when  she  had  sat  there  a  long  time. 

"  It  will  disturb  him  ?  "  and  Bertha  looked  inquiringly. 

"  Nevair  —  he  wake  no  more,  madame.  He  under  de 
influence  of  chloroform  —  sleep  hisself  to  death  —  a-h  ! 
Make  him  sleep  to  spare  de  pain.  He  die  soon,  certainement 
—  no  hope  from  de  first  —  too  long  on  de  ground  —  vilain 
cut  —  a-h !  " 

Then  Bertha  knelt  down  and  laid  her  head  upon  the 
faintly  beating  heart  that  had  loved  her  so  well  through 
long  years  of  anguish,  even  while  it  tortured  her  own  ;  and 
its  last  pulse  throbbed  against  her  tear-washed  face. 

Horace  Stanhope's  handsome  face — handsome  even  with 
its  sunken  features  and  graying  hair  —  looked  calm  and 
happy  in  its  last  long  sleep  ;  and  Bertha  was  comforted  by 
its  placid  and  sweet  expression. 

But  her  heart  wept  over  the  memory  of  her  desertion  and 
his  subsequent  sufferings  —  conscience  condemned  her  for 
the  past.  Had  she  done  her  whole  duty,  he  would  not 
have  sinned  so  grievously,  and  endured  such  remorse  for  his 
crimes. 

Bertha  felt  that  she  was  more  guilty  than  he,  as  she  knelt 
there  above  that  pulseless  heart,  and  watched  that  grief- 
worn  face.  She  could  not  forbear  expressing  her  convic- 
tions of  wrong  towards  her  dead  husband  to  the  attentive 
chaplain.     He  said : 

/'When  we  lose  sight  of  another's  wrongs,  our  own  are 
magnified.  There  are  things  censurable  in  the  history  of 
every  one,  even  the  best;  for  humanity  will  err;  but  let  the 
consciousness  that  his  earthly  sufferings  have  led  to  eternal 
repose,  and  that  you  '  have  taught  him  how  to  die,'  soften 
your  regrets.     Perhaps  by  a  different  course  on  your  part 


348  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

his  infidel  miud  would  never  have  acknowledged  the  true 
faith.  The  sealed  volume  of  God's  mysteries  alone  will 
reveal  the  secret  of  His  ways,  and  the  instrumentalities  He 
employs  to  bring  sinners  to  repentance  and  a  knowledge  of 
Him. 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  God  imposes  upon  us  more  than  is 
necessary  for  our  salvation ;  for  '  He  is  good,  and  His  mercy 
endureth  forever.'  Some  require  heavier  chastisement  to 
purify  their  soul,  and  your  husband  confessed  his  punish- 
ment was  just. 

"  From  what  I  have  learned,  it  was  not  your  design  to  aban- 
don him  wholly.  He  placed  the  barrier  between  you  for  all 
time ;  and  why  should  you  grieve  for  what  you  could  not 
avoid?  You  will  say  you  might  have  avoided  it  by  re- 
maining with  him,  and  enduring  until  death ;  but  God  saw 
from  the  beginning  what  the  end  would  be,  and  nothing 
could  change  the  course  of  human  events  that  He  knew 
would  transpire  in  the  journey  of  life.  '  It  is  not  in  man 
that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps,'  and  '  all  things  are  wisely 
ordered,  and  nothing  left  to  chance  or  fate.'  He  has, 
'through  great  tribulation  entered  into  the  kingdom,'  and 
he  does  not  regret  now  the  sorrows  that  were  a  necessary 
means  to  bring  him  to  that  Rest." 

Bertha's  restless  mind  was  quieted,  but  not  healed  by  the 
kind  minister's  efforts  to  soothe  it  to  rest.  She  felt  justified 
for  her  course,  before  knowing  the  desperate  result  of  her 
desertion.  Had  he  been  happy  with  Louisa,  she  would 
have  felt  no  such  compunctions  of  conscience  now.  But 
she  had  driven  him  to  crime  and  bitter  remorse  by  her  want 
of  forbearance  with  his  deathless  love ;  and  Bertha's  very 
soul  grieved  for  the  misery  that  was  plainly  read  in  that 
poor  and  pallid  face. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  yearningly,  to  sympathizing  Claude, 
"  if  he  could  but  have  lived  long  enough  for  me  to  take  the 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         349 

soul-pain  out  of  this  sunken  face !  It 's  a  monument  to  the 
memory  of  a  violated  vow,  and  will  haunt  me  forever,  al- 
though I  know  he  is  happy  now.  I  ought  to  have  died  at 
the  post  of  duty,  rather  than  desert  it  and  live.  I  wish  I 
had ! "  And  Bertha  fell  back  in  her  brother's  arms,  with  a 
cry  that  startled  him  by  its  depth  of  woe. 

"It's  all  right,"  returned  Claude;  "  'what  is  to  be,  will 
be,'  and  you  are  no  more  guilty  of  wrong  now,  than  when 
he  drove  you  from  him  by  dishonesty  and  jealous  tyranny. 
You  would  not  have  been  justifiable  in  heaven's  or  human 
sight,  in  giving  your  life  and  ours  to  gratify  such  as  he  once 
was.  I  am  glad  he  saw  his  sins,  and  repented  of  them  be- 
fore he  died.  God  works  through  instrumentalities,  and 
through  you,  Horace  has  entered  into  His  rest.  He  made  his 
own  unhappiness,  and  you  are  not  responsible  for  his  suffer- 
ings. 'The  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard,'  and  he  only 
reaped  that  which  he  sowed.  He  rests  now ;  and  don't  make 
yourself  miserable  over  fancied  derelictions  in  duty.  You 
will  see  clearer  when  you  think  deeper.  Your  thoughts  are 
now  on  the  surface  of  your  own  sins,  and  don't  dive  to  the 
bottom  of  his.  It  will  ripple  off  in  silver  bubbles  in  a  little 
while;  and  God's  will  must  have  its  wray ; — you  are  free 
now,"  said  Claude,  looking  under  her  drooping  curls  soberly 
and  intelligently. 

A  sobbing  sigh  was  her  only  answer;  but  Claude  saw 
something  in  her  eyes  that  troubled  him;  yet  he  would  not 
question  her  now. 

It  was  all  over.  The  muffled  drum,  the  dead-march,  the 
farewell  shot  over  the  soldier's  grave,  and  Horace  Stanhope 
was  shut  out  for  all  time  from  the  sunlight  and  blue  skies 
that  shone  above  his  last  resting  -  place,  with  only  one  to 
weep  around  his  buried  form.  But  if  Horace  Stanhope's 
spirit  was  permitted  to  look  down  upon  his  own  grave,  it 
smiled  to  see  that  lone  mourner  was  the  one  he  had  so  loved 
30 


350  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

in  life,  and  in  whose  heart  he  longed  most  to  be  remembered 
in  death. 

Bertha  and  Claude  stood  there  beside  that  new-made 
grave,  when  the  rest  were  gone,  silent  and  solemn. 

"  Oh,  I  'in  glad  !  I  'm  glad  !  "  and  Bertha's  small  hands 
came  together  in  a  firm  clasp  as  she  spoke. 

Claude  Belmont  bent  down  and  looked  in  her  face  with 
astonished  eyes.  He  could  hardly  believe  the  evidence  of 
his  own  senses. 

"  You  are  glad,  sister?  " 

"Yes,  I  'm  glad  !  —  I  'm  so  glad,  now,  Bud  ! " 

"Glad  he  's  dead?"  and  Claude's  eyes  opened  wider. 

"Oh,  Claude!"  and  Bertha  shivered  while  she  looked 
her  reproach.  "No,  no  !  I  'm  glad  I  did  n't  marry  Percy! 
Oh,  if  I  had  married  him ! "  and  her  wet  eyes  shuddered  at 
the  thought. 

Claude  smiled  with  satisfaction. 

"I  thought  you  would  be  glad  some  day — if' not  in  this 
world,  in  the  next.  You  might  have  been  justifiable  by 
law,  human  law;  but  '  God  sees  not  as  man  seeth';  and  if 
you  had  not  sacrificed  your  wish  to  His  command,  I  believe 
Percy  would  not  have  escaped  till  now.  That  is  my  faith. 
There  is  retributive  justice  in  the  earth;  and  Percy  might 
have  fallen  by  the  hand  of  Horace,  and  left  you  to  atone  for 
your  sin  by  life-long  penitence  —  who  knows?  But  now,  by 
obedience  to  Him  through  great  sacrifice,  Horace's  last 
hours  were  brightened  by  your  forgiveness  and  care;  his 
soul  is  saved  through  your  softening  influence,  and  the 
'great  net'  that  you  couldn't  'shake  off,'  has  been  taken 
away  by  Him  for  whose  will  you  were  waiting,  and  you  are 
wholly  free  now,"  said  Claude,  as  they  left  the  cemetery, 
trying  to  turn  her  thoughts  into  a  pleasanter  channel  than 
they  had  been  flowing  through  for  many  days. 

"I  don't  feel  here,"  laying  one  hand  over  her  heart,  "  that 


351 


Percy  and  I  will  ever  meet  again  on  earth.  Horace  said 
he  had  sinned  too  grievously  to  enjoy  such  happiness  as 
restoration  to  health  would  yield  after  our  reunion  ;  and  I 
know  something  of  his  feelings  now.  If  Percy  should 
die," — with  a  soft  catch  of  the  breath,  and  momentary 
pause, — "I  know  it  will  be  as  a  punishment  for  what 
Horace  has  suffered  through  me.  It  may  be  necessary  for 
me  to  endure  a  greater  cross,  in  order  that  I,  too,  may  reach 
the  crown  —  it  may  be !  "  said  Bertha,  with  a  strange  ex- 
pression upon  her  white  face. 

"  Poh  !  poh  ! "  and  Claude  turned  up  his  nose  facetiously, 
and  stretched  his  eyes  at  her,  to  drive  the  shade  from  her 
brow.  "  Such  morbid  thoughts  are  only  the  result  of  recent 
watchings  and  anxiety.  They  will  fly  away,  when  Percy 
comes  in  with  another  load  ! 

"  Such  morbid  thoughts  will  ruin  your  mind,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  Bertha  only  answered  with  a  sickly  smile ;  "  you 
have  always  been  too  brave  and  strong  to  be  conquered  now 
by  a  little  blue  imp  —  throw  it  away  ! " 

" '  Throw  it  away  ! '  That  is  what  Horace  said  when  we 
first  met  at  the  hospital, — '  throw  it  away  ! '  " 

"  Yes ;  and  there  is  another  proof  of  the  Lord's  design. 
Try  to  read  Providence  aright.  Horace  assumed  that  name 
to  screen  him  from  his  friends,  if  he  fell  in  battle ;  and  had 
he  not  been  wounded  by  Percy,  and  recognized  by  Eldon, 
he  might  have  died  upon  some  distant  field,  and  never  been 
discovered.  Then  you  and  Percy  would  have  waited  life- 
long, and  only  been  rewarded  in  heaven  —  don't  you  see  ?  " 
said  Claude,  peeping  under  at  her  softening  face. 

"  If  Horace  had  been  restored,  would  you  have  been  as 
happy  with  him  as  you  would  be  with  Percy?"  he  asked, 
presently. 

"  No,  no !  and  that  is  why  I  am  afraid  —  no,  not  afraid ; 
but  I  have  a  presentiment  that  I  shall  suffer  for  it.    It  may 


352  BEKTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

be  a  morbid  fancy,  and  I  hope  it  is ;  but  he  loved  me  so 
deeply,  through  all,  and  I  only  pitied  him  at  last!"  con- 
fessed Bertha,  with  tearful  eyes. 

"You  are  not  responsible  for  that,  sis.  'Love  is  not  the 
growth  of  years,  nor  gift  of  will.'  Jam  more  guilty  than 
you.  You  were  induced  to  marry  him  without  love,  and  he 
was  not  one  to  win  you  afterwards.  We  are  not  answerable 
for  what  it  is  impossible  to  perform." 

"  I  would  have  performed  my  duty  at  any  sacrifice,  if  he 
had  lived,  with  divine  assistance.  It  would  not  be  so  hard 
now,  even  if  he  were  unchanged." 

"I  think  you  would,"  said  Claude,  slipping  his  arm 
around  her  small  waist  as  they  walked,  and  lifting  her  over 
dry  ground;  "and  let  this  satisfy  you,  now  that  God  has 
seen  best  to  remove  him  from  between  you  and  one  you  love 
—  one  who  loves  you  as  well  as  Horace,  and  has  been  more 
faithful,  and  has  no  stain  upon  his  honor  for  you  to  re- 
member with  regret  in  coming  years,  as  you  would  una- 
voidably have  done  of  Horace,  had  he  been  spared." 

Bertha  was  cheered  and  comforted  by  gay  and  affection- 
ate Claude,  who  would  not  suffer  her  to  "  snub  sky-blue  in 
a  corner  for  other  people's  sins,"  as  he  expressed  it  with  a 
whine  and  wrinkled-up  nose.  But  there  was  a  feeling  about 
her  heart  in  secret  —  a  dead  weight  that  she  could  not  re- 
move —  that  Percy  Ormund's  finger-traces  along  the  fair 
lines  of  a  flag-of-truce  letter  only  lifted  away  at  last. 

Percy  told  her  of  his  meeting  with  Horace  Stanhope,  and 
under  what  circumstances  —  not  imagining  she  had  heard  it 
all,  and  more,  from  Horace's  own  penitent  lips. 

If  it  was  God's  will,  he  said,  that  Horace  should  die  by 
his  hand,  he  thought  it  was  an  evidence  of  His  favor 
respecting  their  future  hopes;  and  advised  her  to  look  for 
the  wounded  soldier's  name  in  the  daily  list  of  "  killed  and 
wounded." 


BEAUTY.  353 

Percy  did  not  dream  that  Horace's  name  would  never 
have  appeared  in  print,  had  not  Bertha  met  him  before  he 
died. 

Percy's  second  letter,  after  Horace's  death,  removed  every 
feeling  of  self-reproach  that  had  troubled  her  tender  con- 
science since  her  dying  husband's  humble  confession  and 
plea  for  pardon. 

If  Percy  acquitted  her  of  wrong,  Bertha  felt  she  was  guilt- 
less; for  her  lover  was  so  pure  and  good  in  our  heroine's 
brown  eyes,  that  she  believed  he  could  not  look  upon  sin 
with  any  degree  of  allowance.  The  shadow  melted  away 
from  her  inner  life,  and  she  felt  no  sting  of  conscience  for 
the  past  when  she  laid  flowers  upon  Horace's  grave.  He 
was  happy  now  in  another  world  through  God's  infinite 
goodness  and  mercy,  and  she  was  hopeful  in  this.  Percy 
had  taught  her  faith  in  the  Divine  will  concerning  their 
future  oneness  in  life  as  well  as  heart. 

Six  months  passed  awTay,  and  "all  quiet  along  the  Poto- 
mac ! "  was  the  daily  cry.  Colonel  Ormund  was  with  Lee's 
army  at  Richmond,  and  she  "  was  quiet,"  so  long  as  the 
lines  along  the  Potomac  were. 

Our  heroine  dared  not  think  of  a  coming  battle  around 
the  Confederate  capital.  She  remembered  Horace's  de- 
scription of  Percy  when  his  State -flag  was  captured  at 
Winchester;  and  she  knew- well  how  he  would  fight  to 
defend  the  archives  of  his  country.  But  April  came,  and 
"  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave  "  was  among  the  list  of  "  killed," 
in  the  last  struggle  for  Southern  independence ! 
30*  X 


354 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

SHOULDER-STRAPS  AND  PRIVATE  CAPS. —  COL.  ORMUND 
THE   BRAVE. 

MR.  OLNEY  did  not  suffer  his  acquaintance  with  our 
fair  heroine  to  end  with  her  visits  to  the  hospital, 
under  his  ministerial  charge.  He  became  a  frequent  visitor 
at  her  home,  and  evidently  more  enamored,  by  time. 

Bertha  soon  discovered  his  object,  and  deprecated  the 
trying  hour.  It  pained  her  to  refuse  a  lover ;  and  she 
wished  heartily  all  men's  eyes  were  as  loyal  to  their  judg- 
ment as  they  professed  to  be  to  their  Government.  She  did 
not  mean  those  who  stole  from  the  United  States  Treasury 
by  wholesale,  and  retailed  private  property  under  the  plea 
of  "  military  necessity." 

Berrlia  was  amazed  at  the  many  and  great  wrongs  that 
had  been  perpetrated  by  men  who  professed  to  be  brimminjy"v. 


with  patriotism  and  running  over  with  enthusiasm  for  the 
good  of  the  Union.  From  what  she  had  seen,  and  knew  iu 
be  true  from  reliable  information,  Bertha  thought  the 
patriotism  of  some  men  was  overflowing,  under  shoulder- 
straps  and  private  caps,  not  only  for  the  "good"  of  the 
"Union,"  but  for  the  "goods"  of  the  whole  people  —  South 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's ! 

She  wondered  how  plundering  private  dwellings,  and 
sending  the  stolen  goods  up  to  the  soldiers'  Northern  homes, 
in  well-laden  boats  and  cars,  was  going  to  benefit  the  Union, 
or  soften  the  asperity  between  the  two  sections. 

Was  it  not  unusual  patriotism  that  set  fire  to  an  editor's 
establishment,  and  cut  the  hose  to  prevent  the  flames  from 
being  extinguished,  simply  because  of  a  published  article 


BERTHA, THE    BEAUTY. 


355 


respecting  an  outrage  perpetrated  by  Union  soldiers  upon 
an  Episcopal  minister,  at  St.  Paul's,  upon  the  holy  Sab- 
bath? That  was  a  well-known  fact  in  the  community. 
And  was  it  not  great  love  of  country  that  boxed  up  that 
editor's  library,  for  transportation  to  "Sister  Janes,"  "  Aunt 
Sallys/'  and  "  Cousin  Susans,"  that  was  subsequently  found 
stowed  away  under  a  wood-pile?  Bertha  thought  it  was; 
and  her  olden  admiration  for  shoulder-straps  and  private 
uniform  grew  "small  by  degrees  and  beautifully  less." 

Editor  Snow  was  a  staunch  Union  man  from  the  dawn  of 
secession,  and  thundered  anathemas  upon  the  leaders  up  to 
the  day  of  dissolution  ;  then  he  subsided  quietly,  and  retired 
from  the  contest,  a  non-combatant  during  the  struggle  for 
independence  on  one  side  and  subjugation  on  the  other. 

But  Editor  Snow  suffered  more  at  the  hands  of  Union 
soldiers  than  the  strongest  secessionist,  per  se,  in  the  city  of 
Alexandria !  And  if  he  did  not  become  more  attached  to 
the  cause  for  which  he  originally  battled,  through  the  in- 
justice and  thievish  propensities  of  those  who  had  enlisted 
under  the  old  flag,  it  was  owing  entirely  to  the  perverseness 
of  weak  human  nature. 

The  cupidity  and  inhumanity  of  Northern  soldiers  embit- 
tered more  Southern  minds  against  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment, than  Stephens,  Sumner,  and  Phillips  had  succeeded  in 
accomplishing  in  their  thirty  years'  efforts,  in  public  ha- 
rangue and  private  wire-pulling. 

And  the  war  was  prolonged  by  the  exasperating  measures 
of  men  who  were  paid  from  the  national  treasury  to  protect 
the  Union. 

Mr.  Belmont  was  a  Northern  man,  and  "  true-blue  for  the 
Union,"  and  Claude  was  a  well-known  loyalist;  but  men 
who  were  fighting  for  their  country  had  robbed  their  store  in 
darkness,  and  run  off  with  their  funds  in  daylight,  before 


356         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

their  eyes,  and  escaped  punishment  for  the  unsoldierly 
deed. 

Negroes  who  had  escaped  from  their  masters  within  the 
Federal  lines,  were  knocked  down  and  robbed,  shot  at,  and 
in  some  instances  killed,  by  those  who  professed  to  be  their 
"best  friends,"  and  were  fighting  for  their  liberty. 

One  honest,  industrious,  inoffensive  colored  man  *  was 
robbed  of  one  hundred  dollars  on  the  holy  Sabbath  day,  by 
soldiers  who  were  fighting  for  their  country.  Some  held  pis- 
tols to  his  head,  while  others  plundered  his  premises.  Cut- 
ting a  hole  in  the  tin  lid,  they  emptied  the  poor  man's  hard 
earnings,  from  his  private  box,  into  their  patriotic  pockets; 
and  Shoulder-straps  declared  himself  "  afraid  to  interfere." 

"  There 's  bravery  for  you !  "  said  Bertha,  when  the  tale 
was  told ;  and  Mr.  Olney's  face  flushed  as  he  caught  the 
sound  of  sarcasm. 

Innocent  girls  were  consigned  to  endless  infamy  by  the 
wiles  and  false  promises  of  patriotic  men,  who  spit  scorn  at 
the  word  "  traitor."  And  many  unsuspecting,  susceptible 
daughters  of  Eve  were  married  to  brave  defenders  of  the 
Nation's  honor,  who  had  wives  in  Northern  homes. f 

Bertha  and  Claude  ranked  high  among  the  list  of  "South- 
ern Loyalists  "  when  the  first  Federal  regiment  took  posses- 
sion of  "  the  favorite  city  of  Washington  ; "  and  Percy  Or- 
mund  knew  her  mind  when  the  old  woodman  looked  under 
his  broadbrim,  and  said,  smilingly : 

"  I  reckon  this  little  girl  is  Union  at  heart  ?  " 

But  our  heroine  ere  long  acquired  the  reputation  of  being 
a  "  copperhead,"  simply  because  she  "  despised  meanness," 
and  could  not  indorse  the  unpatriotic,  unjust,  and  inhuman 

*  Alonzo  Butler,  son  of  the  author's  servant,  who  was  emancipated 
by  her  owners  twenty  years  before  the  war. 

f  The  incidents  related  in  this  chapter  are  facts  known  to  the 
author. 


357 

deeds  that  were  perpetrated  daily  by  "loyal  "  men  who  were 
fighting  for  their  country. 

Bertha  was  amazed  at  the  conduct  of  Northern  men,  who 
professed  to  be  friendly  to  the  South,  and  only  battled 
against  it  to  defend  the  Nation's  honor.  She  expressed  her 
sentiments  to  Mr.  Olney,  one  day. 

"  You  must  not  form  your  estimate  of  the  Northern  people 
by  what  you  see  here,"  he  replied.  "  These  men  are  not  a 
fair  specimen  of  the  'bone  and  sinew'  of  the  North  — 
merely  the  fag  ends  of  creation !  " 

"  I  wish  they  'd  send  us  a  'fair  specimen,'  then,"  returned 
our  heroine,  dryly. 

"  Butler,  for  instance,"  suggested  the  chaplain,  facetiously. 

"Yes,  under  his  'Tower,'  by  way  of  the  'canal,'"  said 
Bertha,  soberly. 

"  What  would  you  do  with  him  if  he  were  yours  by  light 
of  conquest?" 

"Send  him  to  Barnum  to  exhibit  in  New  Orleans.  He 
never  made  a  fortune  out  of  a  greater  '  humbug '  !  "  smiled 
Bertha. 

"  I  am  no  admirer  of  such  extremists  as  Butler  &  Co.," 
replied  the  good  man.  "  '  A  soft  answer  turneth  away 
wrath,  but  grievous  words  stir  up  anger;'  —  and  'molasses 
will  catch  more  flies  than  vinegar,'  "  he  added,  with  a 
pleasant  smile. 

"  If  the  Union  soldiers  possessed  the  spirit  of  President 
Lincoln,  there  wTould  be  less  hardness  felt  towards  them  by 
the  Southern  people,  and  less  reluctance  to  yielding  to  the 
authority  of  the  Federal  Government." 

"And  yet  your  people  seceded  because  of  his  elevation." 

"  Yes,  and  they  see  their  error  now.  They  fell  into  the 
power  of  their  enemies  by  turning  against  their  friend.  I 
have  heard  Union  officers  and  privates  abuse  him  for  a 
'  traitor,'  because  he  is  generous  and  just !  " 


358 

"  Everybody  nowadays  is  a  '  traitor '  and  '  rebel,'  who 
don't  play  into  the  hands  of  radical  politicians,"  said  the 
Christian  conservative,  with  serious  eyes. 

"  Bertha  the  Beauty  "  liked  her  chaplain  admirer,  and 
shrank  from  the  necessity  of  rejecting  the  offer  she  knew 
must  come. 

She  longed  to  forestall  his  declaration  by  informing  him 
of  her  position,  and  thus  spare  him  and  herself  the  mortifi- 
cation and  pain  of  proposing  and  declining.  But  modesty 
could  not  overstep  the  bounds,  and  no  auspicious  moment 
presented  itself  for  her  relief. 

"  I  wonder  what  that  chaplain  is  after  every  day  now," 
said  Mr.  Belmont,  one  evening,  with  sober  face  but  twink- 
ling eyes. 

Bertha  blushed  furiously  in  spite  of  her  indifference  to- 
wards the  man. 

"To  administer  spiritual  consolation,  I  presume,"  re- 
turned Claude,  resting  his  nose  in  the  fork  of  two  fingers, 
and  staring  hard  at  the  hot  grate. 

"  Can't  you  tell  ? "  asked  the  old  man,  looking  over  his 
glasses  at  Bertha,  with  a  remarkably  innocent  face. 

"No,  sir;  he  hasn't  informed  me." 

"  Sensible  man  that  —  don't  dose  his  patient  till  he's  sure 
of  the  state  of  the  pulse,"  returned  Mr.  Belmont,  scratching 
his  head. 

"  I  wish  he  was  sure  then.     I  don't  want  his  medicine." 

"Don't  know  but  you'd  better  take  the  loyal  man,  and 
leave  the  Rebel,  after  all,"  said  the  old  father,  soberly. 

"  Me  t  I  would  n't  marry  another  Yankee  to  save  the 
world  and  Long  Island ! "  replied  our  heroine,  impulsively. 

Mrs.  Belmont  rocked  back  and  laughed  musically;  and 
Claude  took  his  nose  from  between  his  fingers  and  whistled. 

"  Hum !  a  saucebox,  the  best  way  we  can  turn  you,"  grunted 
the  Yankee  father,  —  "what's  the  matter  now,  impudence?  " 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  3^9 

"  I  don't  think  it  advisable  for  the  two  sections  to  inter- 
marry. They  are  too  unlike  in  every  respect,  and  never 
can  coalesce  —  always  a  house  divided  against  itself,  I  don't 
care  where  you  find  them  ;  like  ours  —  two  against  two  !  " 
laughed  Bertha. 

"But  the  most  sensible  are  always  on  the  right  side  — 
like  my  house,  for  instance,"  said  Mr.  Belmont,  giving  his 
head  another  dig. 

"Then  the  most  sensible  ought  to  make  a  wiser  choice 
than  to  marry  out  of  their  own  church.  I  wish  it  was 
against  the  law." 

"  Then  you  would  n't  have  the  chaplain  after  you  ! " 

"I  wish  I  could  get  rid  of  him  without  hurting  his  sensi- 
bility. I  respect  and  esteem  the  man ;  but  I  would  refuse 
him  for  his  Northern  origin,  if  there  were  no  other  reason. 
I  know  too  well  the  uncongeniality  of  Northern  and  South- 
ern minds.  I  don't  mean  to  be  'impudent,'  pa.  You 
know  how  I  love  you  ;  and  you  know,  too,  I  'm  telling  the 
plain  truth  without  any  disparagement." 

"  I  '11  warn  the  preacher  against  you  then.  You  shan't 
have  the  honor  of  refusing  another  Yankee,  by  George!" 

"  I  wish  you  would  !  I  wish  you  would  !  I  'd  give  any- 
thing to  avoid  it !  It  is  n't  pleasant,"  said  Bertha,  clapping 
her  hands  in  glee  at  the  prospect  of  escape. 

"Think  I  can  manage  it  better.  Leave  it  to  me," 
chimed  in  Claude,  who  wras  satisfied  of  her  sincerity.  "  I 
can  get  you  out  without  hurting  him,  by  hinting  at  your 
situation." 

"That  s  a  good  fellow  !  You've  got  some  Southern  blood 
in  you,"  laughed  Bertha,  looking  over  at  her  good-natured 
father,  deprecatingly.  "But  no  exposure  of  names,  mind  you." 

"I'll  manage  it,  I  bet — trust  me,"  said  Claude,  smooth- 
ing his  moustache  up,  and  stopping  his  nose  with  the  ends. 

When  Mr.  Olney  called  next  day,  Claude  Belmont  was 


3G0  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

playing  truant  from  his  law-office,  and  "  dropped  in  "  to  see 
the  chaplain. 

"All  quiet  along  the  lines  to-day?"  inquired  Claude, 
glancing  at  Bertha. 

"Not  altogether — some  fighting  at  the  front.  I  think 
the  '  tug  of  war '  has  come  at  last,  and  the  '  on  to  Rich- 
niond  '  will  soon  end." 

Bertha  grew  suddenly  white. 

"  Take  care !  "  said  Claude,  looking  straight  at  his  sister ; 
"  that  touches  where  it 's  tender." 

"Anything  staked  upon  the  result?"  asked  the  chaplain, 
changing  countenance  rapidly,  as  he  marked  the  change'  in 
Bertha. 

"  Everything  upon  one  life  !  No  damage  done  yet,  I 
suppose  ? " 

"  Only  one  noted  Rebel  killed,  as  reported  ;  and  that  is  as 
encouraging  to  the  Federals  as  the  death  of  Stonewall." 

"  Who  is  that  ?  "  and  Claude's  face  betrayed  his  anxiety. 

"  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave  —  he  — " 

Bertha  sprang  up  with  a  scream  that  lifted  the  hearers  to 
their  feet,  and  with  a  moaning  gasp  fainted  in  the  arms  of 
her  brother.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  of  trial  that 
our  heroine  had  lost  consciousness  through  sudden  excite- 
ment and  soul-pain,  and  Claude  was  terrified  by  her  death- 
like seeming. 

Bertha  had  warned  Claude  against  exposing  names,  but 
the  name  had  exposed  her. 

Mr.  Olney  knew  "  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave,"  who  had 
given  her  remorseful  husband  his  death-blow,  was  dearer  to 
our  heroine  than  Horace  Stanhope  was  when  they  laid  him 
in  the  soldiers'  cemetery — dearer  than  h e  could  ever  be- 
come, he  feared,  when  he  looked  in  that  long  insensible  face, 
and  saw  no  sign  of  returning  life. 

But  the  good  man  left  her  restored  to  reason,  and  sobbing 


361 

in  anguish  with  the  pain  he  had  unintentionally  given  her, 
thinking,  perhaps,  it  was  God's  purpose  to  favor  his  hopes, 
by  removing  from  between  them  the  two  barriers  to  their 
realization. 

Claude  Belmont  was  half  crazed  by  his  sister's  deep  dis- 
tress ;  still  he  exerted  himself  to  comfort  her  by  feigning 
unbelief  in  the  report  of  Percy's  death.  "  No  rumor  was  re- 
liable in  war-times,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  "and  the  old  boy 
would,  undoubtedly,  walk  in  at  no  distant  day,  and  astonish 
the  natives.  He  did  n't  believe  in  snapping  up  every  re- 
port, and  taking  it  for  granted,  when  every  wish  was  but 
father  to  the  thought.  Colonel  Moseby  had  been  killed  sev- 
eral times  during  the  war,  and  was  alive,  playing  the  mis- 
chief yet!  So  with  Stonewall,  McCullough,  and  all  those 
who  were  most  feared  by  the  enemy.  He  did  n't.  believe 
God  had  brought  things  out  so  favorably  for  her  and  Percy 
thus  far,  to  disappoint  her  at  last." 

Bertha  caught  at  this  suggestion  with  all  the  eagerness 
that  drowning  hands  grasp  at  straws,  and  felt  a  little  com- 
fort in  the  thought ;  but  when  weeks  went  by,  and  no  word 
from  Percy  came,  and  the  papers  teemed  with  his  death,  and 
the  manner  in  which  "  the  bold  Kebel  met  his  fate  for  trea- 
son," she  fell  away  into  utter  hopelessness  of  a  reunion  in 
this  world,  with  him  who  was  the  life  of  her  life,  and  who 
had  tenderly  counselled  her  to  let  not  her  faith  in  Him,  who 
"  doeth  all  things  well,"  be  shaken,  if  he  should  fall. 

She  said,  to  the  secretly  distressed  Claude,  in  utter  de- 
spondency: 

"  I  told  you  so  at  Horace's  grave.  I  had  a  presentiment 
then,  that  I  should  suffer,  through  Percy,  to  atone  for  the 
past." 

"I  don't  believe  it  yet,"  said  Claude,  trying  to  look  bright. 
"  It  is  written,  f  Put  thy  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  He  shall 
give  thee  the  desire  of  thy  heart.'     Now,  if  Percy  has  fallen, 
31 


362         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

it  will  falsify  this  assertion ;  and  not  '  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
His  word  shall  fall  to  the  ground,  till  all  be  fulfilled.'  " 

"I  know  that;  God  is  true,  and  if  it  fails,  I  have  been 
faithless.  I  have  not  trusted,  wholly ;  and  loved  the  crea- 
ture more  than  the  Creator  —  that  is  my  fear !  "  she  added, 
with  a  crimson  flush  rippling  over  her  white  face  at  the  con- 
fession. 

"Besides,"  she  continued,  "it  was  foretold  me  in  child- 
hood, that  I  should  never  marry  but  once  ;  and  the  predic- 
tions of  the  seer  respecting  my  matrimonial  life  were  so 
truthful,  that  it  has  impressed  me  with  a  belief  in  the  whole. 
The  superstition  has  followed  me  for  years  !  " 

"  Poh  !  what  did  the  fellow  say  of  your  destined  lord  ?  " 

" That  he  would  'come  from  afar '  —  be  'very  handsome' 

—  would  'love  me  to  death,'  and  'be  much  of  a  dog' !  " 

"  He  hit  the  nail  there,  by  George !  But  what  has  hap- 
pened to  come  true  in  the  past  don't  prove  anything  for  the 
future.  The  old  fellow  could  n't  see  through  Horace's 
shadow  to  Percy's  sunshine." 

"  Yes ;  I  was  trying  for  Percy,  then.  It  was  while  he 
boarded  with  us." 

"Oh,  ho!  you  were?  What  did  the  old  humbug  say  of 
the  boy  ? " 

"He  described  him  perfectly  —  said  he  was  'a  noble  fel- 
fow  '  —  that  he  '  loved  me,'  but  I  would  '  never  marry  him  ' 

—  why,  he  could  not  tell  —  he  was  '  lost  in  a  fog,'  and 
could  n't  '  see  clear '  —  but  he  '  never  saw  so  many  crosses 
in  one  hand  as  I  had  in  mine ' !  " 

"  Humph  !  Well,  I  don't  believe  the  old  pretender  fore- 
saw it,  if  it  all  comes  true.  The  Lord  don't  give  such  wis- 
dom to  mortals  in  this  day  and  generation  of  vipers !  and  I 
hope  you  won't  suffer  your  mind  to  be  affected  by  the  old 
impostor's  guess-work.  I'd  like  to  pound  him  for  his  pre- 
tensions to  omniscience,  by  George!     I  see  now  what  you 


THE    BEAUTY.  3G3 

were  moping  about,  after  Horace  died.  You  thought  be- 
cause he  'loved  you  to  death,'  the  rest  was  bound  to  come 
true ! " 

"  And  it  has ! "  said  Bertha,  striving  to  appear  calm. 

"  Nothing  like  it,  sir !  "  returned  Claude,  recalling,  by  the 
language,  an  association  that  made  our  heroine  smile  irre- 
sistibly. "  The  end  is  not  yet,  unless  it  is  the  end  of  night. 
I  can  see  the  daylight  through  the  dark,  in  spite  of  the  old 
rascal's  prediction.  Such  fellows  ought  to  share  the  fate  of 
the  witches  in  Saul's  day,  ■  I  swan  ! '  Anyhow,  don't  give 
up  the  ship,  and  break  your  heart  over  the  wreck,  until  you 
know  it  has  gone  down,  and  see  the  splinters  on  the  shore ! 
Many  a  sail  has  got  safely  into  port  after  being  lost  for 
years ;  and  I  don't  believe  God  designs  this  one  to  go  down 
in  deep  waters  just  yet,"  said  the  loving  brother,  with  as- 
sumed cheerfulness. 

Claude  Belmont  felt  less  hope  for  Percy's  life  than  he  af- 
fected to  feel.  He  had  seen  more  published  accounts  of  his 
death,  in  defending  the  "  Rebel  capital,"  than  Bertha  was 
permitted  to  read ;  but  he  felt  justifiable  in  the  wTell-meaut 
deception,  for  the  sake  of  her  life  and  his  home. 

Our  heroine  was  idolized  by  her  parents  and  brother,  and 
Claude  thought  by  familiarizing  her  mind  with  the  contem- 
plation of  her  lover's  death,  while  cherishing  a  hope  of  his 
life,  would  stretch  her  power  of  endurance  gradually,  and 
not  snap  the  cord  by  a  sudden  wrench,  when  the  full  con- 
viction of  his  loss  was  felt. 

Bertha  tried  hard  to  submit  patiently  to  the  decree  of 
heaven,  and  bear  up  bravely  under  this  greatest  cross  of  her 
life,  for  the  sake  of  "the  loved  ones  at  home";  but  her 
health  failed  in  the  black  shadow  that  fell  over  the  sunshine 
of  her  life ;  and  Claude's  gay  tone  and  hopeful  smile  died 
quite  away  in  heart-ache,  when  the  physician  said  there  was 
but  little  hope  of  his  patient's  recovery. 


364         BERTHA;  THE  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER  LIX. 

LAST  SCENE   IN    BERKSHIRE,  MASSACHUSETTS. 

THE  last  scene  in  the  dilapidated  frame  house,  in  Berk- 
shire, Massachusetts,  is  in  the  latter  part  of  October, 
1864. 

It  was  a  cold  but  sunbright  day,  and  nature  looked  barren 
and  bleak  in  the  lonely  hollow,  shut  in  by  gloomy  granite 
mountains. 

The  sweetest  month,  in  the  South,  looked  grim  and  griev- 
ing in  the  frosty  air  of  the  rock-bound  North  —  all  wrinkled 
and  worn  out  as  December  in  our  heroine's  early  home. 

The  old  house  was  unchanged,  excepting  a  darker  shade 
from  the  soiling  hands  of  the  passing  years ;  but  the  inmates 
had  grown  old,  and  hard,  and  dried  up,  with  daily  toil. 

"  Newt "  was  married  and  gone,  and  "  little  Mat,"  of  four- 
teen years  ago,  was  a  young  woman  of  eighteen,  with  a  seem- 
ing of  ten  years  more, 

But  there  was  a  baby  yet,  with  regular  rounds  between  it 
and  the  baby  of  fourteen  years  agone,  besides  twins  between 
the  two. 

Silas  had  a  houseful  that  day,  for  "  Uncle  Enos  "  and 
"  Gid  "  had  driven  over  to  look  at  a  new  mowing-machine 
"'Lonzo  "  had  sent  up  from  "New  Yorick,"  as  a  present  to 
his  hard-working  brother ;  and  "  'Lonzo,"  Allyn,  and  Han- 
nah "  popped  in,"  before  they  had  finished  inspecting  and 
admiring  the  "  labor-saving  git-up." 

"Uncle  Enos"  and  "Gid"  accepted  an  invitation  to  re- 
main to  tea,  in  honor  of  the  city  folks'  arrival. 

Gid  was  married,  but  his  "wife  would  n't  take  on  'bout  it, 
'cause  she  knowed  where  he  was,"  Silas  said. 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  3G5 

"  'Pears  like  yeou  don't  look  bright  as  a  new  pin," 
said  Uncle  Enos,  slapping  Alonzo  on  the  knee  to  wake 
him  up. 

"  Then  my  looks  don't  deceive  you  ;  I  have  sad  news  of 
Horace." 

11  Hey  ?  has  Horace  turned  up  at  larst  ?  Ben  a  good  many 
years  since  he  let  a  body  know  where  tew  find  him.  Where's 
the  dog?" 

"  In  his  grave !  " 

A  sudden  silence  reigned.    Martha  was  the  first  to  break  it. 

"  Yeou  don't  say  so,  'Lonzo  !  be  yeou  certain  ?  " 

"  Certain  !     Bertha  saw  him  die." 

"  Bertha ! "  ejaculated  Martha. 

"  I  swan  !  "  said  Silas,  wiping  his  eyes  with  his  sleeve. 

"Dew  tell  a  body  straight  eout,  and  don't  pinch  it  off  so," 
requested  impatient  Martha. 

At  Horace  Stanhope's  earnest  desire,  Bertha  had  written 
his  full  confession,  together  with  her  reasons  for  remaining 
unmarried,  to  be  transmitted  to  Alonzo,  if  he  should  not 
recover,  and  appended  his  own  signature  to  the  letter,  with 
the  request  that  it  should  be  communicated  to  his  friends. 
He  could  not  die  calmly,  without  making  this  atonement  for 
the  past.  Bertha  added  a  postscript,  after  his  death,  and 
fulfilled  her  dead  husband's  last  desire. 

Alonzo  read  the  letter,  with  many  a  pause  and  choking 
down  of  emotion. 

The  men  set  their  teeth  hard,  and  bore  it  bravely,  with 
only  an  occasional  dash  of  the  hand  across  the  eyes;  but  the 
women  broke  down  and  cried  as  only  women  can. 

If  God  had  not  given  woman  the  blessing  of  weeping 
away  her  woes,  the  world  would  be  full  of  broken  hearts. 
Tears  are  the  safety-valve  to  softer  and  more  sympathizing 
souls  than  self-controlling  men  possess.  Woman  is  a  weaker 
foundation,  but  a  stronger  shelter  than  man. 
31* 


366  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

"Pure  fellow!  "  said  Uncle  Enos,  with  solemn  e)Tes.  "I 
be  glad  he  repented  and  died  right." 

"And  I  thank  the  Lord,  Bertha  found  him  before  he 
died,"  returned  Alonzo,  "for  he  loved  her  enough  to  have 
been  a  better  man." 

"  I  swan  if  he  did  n't!  "  said  Silas. 

"  The  Lord  led  him  in  a  way  that  he  knew  not ;  and  if 
he  hadn't  found  her,  he  would  'a' gone  tew  the  pit;"  and 
Deacon  Enos  groaned. 

"  New  reason  for  not  marryin'  agin,  seems  tew  me,"  said 
unregenerate  Gid.  "I  don't  see  no  use  in  livin'  single,  when 
the  law 's  on  my  side.  I  'd  'a'  done  it  if  I  'd  ben  in  her  shoes, 
you  may  bet  high,  and  win  every  time ! " 

"  The  child 's  right,"  replied  the  Deacon,  with  snapping 
eyes  ;  "  this  divorce  law  is  a  mean  business,  and  a  dangerous 
one,  tew,  I  tell  yeou !  If  the  law  was  agin  marryin'  after 
bein'  divorced,  there  would  n't  be  so  many  separations  of 
man  and  wife,  sure 's  a  gun.  A  man  takes  a  wife,  and  swears 
to  stick  tew  'er  as  long  as  they  tew  shall  live,  and  if  he 's  a 
mean  scamp,  and  takes  a  hankerin'  after  a  new  face,  he  '11 
kick  up  a  muss,  and  git  a  divorce,  and  marry  agin.  It 's 
agin  the  scriptur,  anyhow,  and  no  rale  Christian  will  dew  it." 

"  It 's  nothing  more  nor  less  than  prostitution,  when  you 
look  at  it  right,  if  human  law  does  recognize  it,"  said  Alonzo ; 
"  and  the  law  is  a  curse  to  the  world.  If  a  first  marriage 
proves  unfortunate,  and  the  divorced  parties  marry  again, 
the  second  union  is  as  unhappy  as  the  first,  observe  it  when 
you  will ;  and  public  censure  naturally  falls  upon  the  one 
who  has  been  separated  from  a  former  husband  or  wife, 
whether  they  merit  it  or  not.  It  seems  to  be  a  fatality  that 
invariably  follows  the  violation  of  a  marriage  vow.  There 's 
Mima  Koseby,  whose  first  husband  ran  away  from  her,  and 
after  a  divorce  her  second  followed  suit ;  and  —  " 

"  And  her  third  '11  dew  that  same,  sure  fire,  if  she  gits 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.  367 

him  !"  interrupted  Gid,  knocking  his  fists  together,  by  way 
of  emphasis.  "  Dang  my  eyes,  if  I  'd  live  with  her  a  week, 
if  there  was  a  divorce  law  in  the  land  !  She's  worse 'n  half 
a  dozen  cats  under  a  kitchen  after  dark  —  by  jing ! " 

"  And  but  for  the  law  of  divorce,  she  never  would  have 
married  but  once,  if  her  first  husband  had  died  when  he  de- 
serted her,  in  all  probability;  but  Roseby,  relying  upon 
legality,  in  defiance  of  her  reputation  as  a  shrew,  tried  the 
experiment  of  taming  her,  and  found  his  strength  inadequate 
to  the  effort.  Now  he  '11  have  the  Gordian  knot  cut,  and 
marry  again,  probably ;  and  his  second  wife  will  run  off* 
from  him,  just  as  like  as  not,  as  a  punishment  for  his  sin  — 
and  so  it  goes,"  said  Alonzo,  seriously. 

"  I  'in  not  surprised  at  some  separations,"  spoke  up  Allyn  ; 
"  for  it 's  an  impossibility  to  live  with  some  people  without 
sending  one's  soul  to  perdition ;  but  and  if  they  depart,  let 
them  remain  unmarried,  or  else  be  reconciled  to  their  hus- 
band or  wife.  And  you  may  take  it  for  granted,  the  one 
that  marries  first,  after  such  a  separation,  is  the  guilty 
party,  in  the  first  instance ;  for  a  man  or  woman  who  has  a 
wTicked  husband  or  wife,  is  never  in  haste  to  enter  into  a 
second  union  after  their  death.  They  get  enough  of  matri- 
mony to  last  them  some  years ;  and  a  burnt  child  dreads 
the  fire !  But  where  they  are  happily  wedded,  and  death 
divides,  they  '11  marry  again  soon,  if  they  get  a  chance." 

"  Cousin  Bertha  ben't  single  'cause  she  could  n't  git  a 
chance,  you  may  bet  high ! "  responded  admiring  Gid. 
"  Dang  my  eyes,  if  she  wer'n't  the  pootiest  pictur  that  my 
peepers  ever  lit  on,  by  jing !  And  Horace  was  jealous  as  a 
Chinee  'cause  I  said  so,  pure  boy !  He  could  n't  help  it,  I 
guess  ;  and  if  he  had  n't  been  so  green-eyed  he  'd  ben  a-livin' 
now,  and  happy  as  a  fellow  ought  tew  be  this  side  o'  Jordan  ; 
for  Cousin  Bert  was  a  rale  good  little  thing,  and  took  his 
crossness  easier  than  I  thought  she  ought  tew  a  done.     I  'm 


368 

glad  he  owned  up  tew  'er  'fore  he  went;  'cause  it  '11  be  a  com- 
fort tew  'er  tew  know  she  did  n't  live  single  for  no  good." 
And  happily  married  Gid  looked  truly  sympathizing,  as  he 
thought  of  our  heroine's  unfortunate  state  of  celibacy. 

"Bert'a  was  a  beauty,  that's  so  !  "  exclaimed  the  Deacon, 
enthusiastically  ;  "  and  I  give  Horace  a  good  long  warnin' 
agin  his  greenness,  one  day,  and  showed  him  his  luck  in 
gittin'  such  a  sweet  little  wife,  and  how  he  ought  tew  try 
tew  be  grateful  tew  God,  and  make  her  happy,  'specially 
now  she  was  away  from  home ;  but  it  did  n't  dew  a  mite  o' 
good.  'T  was  bred  in  the  bone,  and  could  n't  come  out  o* 
the  flesh,  and  he  suffered  for  his  sins,  pure  fellow  !  " 

"  And  they  were  scarlet !  "  sighed  Alonzo. 

"  Yes,  but  the  Lord  made  them  wrhite  as  snow,"  said  good 
Martha. 

"That's  the  only  comfort  nowr,"  returned  Alonzo,  who 
loved  his  brother  despite  his  crimes. 

"  Death-bed  repentance  is  a  doubtful  hope ;  but  there  are 
rare  instances  of  such  conversions,  as  in  the  case  of  the  thief 
on  the  cross.  But  for  that,  I  should  doubt  the  possibility 
of  being  accepted  by  the  Lord  then,  after  a  whole  life  had 
been  given  to  the  devil." 

"  The  old  fellow  got  cheated  that  time,"  said  Gid,  whose 
merry  heart  could  not  long  remain  depressed.  "  I  'm 
going  tew  give  him  fair  warnin'  not  to  wait  for  me,  so's 
not  tew  be  disappinted  at  larst !  " 

"You  '11  have  tew  turn  over  a  new  leaf  then,  and  git  up 
early  tew  fool  him ! "  replied  the  Deacon,  rubbing  his 
mouth  to  shade  an  incipient  smile. 


BERTHA,    THE    BEAUTY.  369 


CHAPTER  LX. 

A   SPEEDY    REACTION.  —  THE   LOST   IS    FOUND. 

IT  was  late  in  May,  and  all  nature  was  smiling  without, 
through  sunshine  and  blue  skies,  green  leaves  and  fra- 
grant blossoms ;  but  Claude  Belmont  sat  withm,  beside  his 
slumbering  sister  —  beautiful  even  in  deathlike  whiteness 
and  wanness  —  and  the  loveliness  of  nature  was  lost  to  the 
weeping-hearted  brother. 

The  solemn-faced  physician  said  Bertha  must  die,  without 
a  speedy  reaction  of  the  mind  ;  and  Mr.  Belmont's  home  was 
darkened  by  the  brooding  wings  of  the  last  enemy  of  man- 
kind ;  for  all  hope  of  Percy  Ormund's  return  to  claim  his 
bride  was  extinguished. 

The  war  was  ended.  Richmond  had  fallen.  General  Lee 
had  surrendered;  his  army  had  been  paroled,  and  Percy 
was  silent.  Had  he  been  living,  they  would  have  been  ap- 
prised of  the  fact  through  some  source,  for  Colonel  Ormund 
was  indefatigable. 

Claude  was  watching  his  sleeping  sister,  and  wondering 
at  the  ways  of  Providence.  Claude's  heart  was  hardening 
in  the  winter  of  her  strange  fate.  He  wondered  why  God 
had  left  her  to  die  of  silent  sorrow,  when  he  had  promised 
a  different  end  to  those  who  trusted  in  His  word.  He  could 
not  believe  such  suffering  necessary  to  bring  her  —  so  good 
and  pure  in  heart  and  life  —  to  a  land  of  rest,  across  the 
waves  of  Time. 

Claude's  heart  rebelled  against  the  decree  of  Heaven,  and 
his  face  looked  hard  as  he  felt. 

He  tried  to  evoke  a  softer  spirit,  by  thinking  the  afflic- 

Y 


370  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

tion  was  for  some  wise  purpose  beyond  his  finite  views  ;  but 
the  iron  would  not  melt  —  the  heat  of  feeling  was  too  low 
in  the  furnace  of  desire. 

The  door-bell  sounded,  but  did  not  rouse  him  from  dark 
dreams. 

"  Gentleman  wants  you,  Mister  Claude."  And  the  ser- 
vant disappeared. 

Claude  went  down  the  stairs,  slowly  and  solemnly ;  but 
his  countenance  changed  like  leaping  light  through  a  dense 
cloud,  when  his  sunless  eyes  fell  upon  the  "  gentleman,"  for 
"  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave,"  bearing  evidence  of  long 
confinement,  stood  before  him. 

Claude  Belmont  bounded  forward  and  caught  Percy 
around  the  neck,  with  a  glad  outflow  of  tears  that  did  not 
shame  his  manhood.  Bertha  would  live  now,  he  thought, 
for  a  "speedy  reaction"  would  follow  her  lover's  re- 
turn. 

The  phase  of  nature  was  changed  in  a  moment  for  happy- 
hearted  Claude.  He  fell  down  on  the  sofa  and  laughed, 
and  clapped  his  hands  like  a  new  convert. 

"  Hallelujah  !  "  shouted  Claude,  softly.  "I  '11  never  doubt 
the  Lord  again,  I  think  !  Dog  if  I  was  n't  growing  fearfully 
hard  under  the  pressure!  —  makes  me  feel  guilty  of  treason ; 
but  I  '11  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  now !  "  looking  signifi- 
cantly at  the  late  Kebel  in  arms. 

Colonel  Ormund's  thin  face  lost  its  whiteness  and  gloom 
before  the  brother's  rejoicings,  but  he  went  slowly  and  pain- 
fully up  the  stairs  to  Bertha's  chamber.  His  wound  was 
yet  unhealed.  Percy  touched  lightly  the  pale,  grieving 
mouth  of  the  slumberer  with  his  own,  and  left  a  tear  upon 
her  white  cheek. 

She  seemed  to  feel  his  presence  even  in  sleep,  for  a  soft 
smile  broke  over  her  tingling  cheek  and  settled  around  her 
lips ;  and  when  she  awoke,  "  Bertha  the  Beauty  "  was  in 


BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY.         371 

the  arms  of  him  she  had  thought  never  to  meet  again  on 
earth  —  "  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave !  " 

Colonel  Ormund  was  wounded  by  a  sharpshooter  while 
defending  the  weakest  point  around  the  Confederate  capital, 
and  the  event,  perhaps,  saved  his  life  in  subsequent  attacks 
more  violent  and  sanguinary. 

"There  goes  a  stronghold  !  "  cried  the  officer  who  watched 
the  result  through  a  glass  from  the  point  of  observation, — 
"  '  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave  '  is  down  !  Three  cheers  for 
the  Union ! " 

The  men  sent  up  a  shout,  and  "  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave 
is  killed  !  "  ran  along  the  lines  as  an  encouragement  to  the 
troops,  and  was  brought  up  to  Alexandria  with  rejoicings.' 

Percy  was  borne  off  insensible,  and  the  weak  point  be- 
came weaker,  and  ere  long  the  United  States  flag  waved 
over  it.  The  "  shepherd  was  smitten,  and  the  sheep  were 
scattered ! " 

"Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave"  was  carried  by  Walter 
Eldon  without  the  city  limits,  to  the  quiet  home  of  Agnes 
Bentley  of  former  years  (now  Mrs.  Leroy),  and  tenderly 
nursed  by  that  sympathizing  friend,  for  his  own  sake  as 
well  as  for  Walter's  kindness  in  other  years.  Her  husband 
was  a  surgeon  in  the  Southern  army,  and  Percy  was  well 
attended. 

His  wound  was  in  the  head  —  not  considered  mortal,  but 
such  as  to  cloud  his  intellect ;  and  only  partial  recognition 
of  friends  and  passing  events  was  perceptible  to  the  faithful 
watchers  for  many  long  days ;  and  the  war  with  the  South 
had  culminated  in  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln 
by  one  who  had  no  Southern  blood  in  his  veins,  ere  Percy 
awoke  to  the  full  consciousness  of  his  situation,  and  the 
overthrow  of  the  Confederacy. 

Then  his  thoughts  went  after  Bertha,  and  he  wondered 
if  she   had  heard    of  his  fall.     Walter  wrote   thrice,  but 


372         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

no  answer  came  to  relieve  the  lover's  anxiety,  and  Percy- 
could  not  be  held  longer  in  Dr.  Leroy's  home.  God  raised 
him  up  in  time  to  save  our  heroine  from  a  premature  grave, 
and  Claude  from  unbelief! 

"  Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave  "  and  "  Bertha  the  Beauty  " 
were  made  "  one  flesh  "  before  the  golden  sun  that  gilded 
that  sweet  May  day  went  down  the  purple  pathway  of 
the  west,  and  the  dream  of  twenty  years  ago  was  realized 
at  last  ! 

Percy  insisted  upon  an  immediate  marriage.  He  said 
"  they  had  waited  long  enough,  in  his  opinion,  and  there 
was  no  necessity  for  a  longer  delay.  He  wanted  a  legal 
right  to  watch  with  her  during  her  further  illness,  and  not 
send  up  his  card  with  his  compliments  until  she  was  fully 
restored." 

Bertha's  cheeks  crimsoned,  and  she  shut  her  eyes  tight, 
as  he  bent  over  to  look  into  their  shining  brown  depths. 

"  I  say,  Mrs.  Colonel  Percy  Ormund,"  said  gay  Claude, 
when  the  marriage  ceremony  was  over,  and  her  husband's 
glad  bosom  pillowed  her  happy  head,  "  where  's  your  old 
humbug  now  —  hey  ?  " 

Percy  looked  inquiringly  at  his  buoyant  brother-in-law, 
and  Claude  related  the  whole  story,  with  laughable  illus- 
trations of  her  woe-begone  appearance,  under  the  influence 
of  the  old  impostor's  prognostications. 

The  smiling  bridegroom  turned  up  his  nose  at  her  in 
affected  disdain,  and  then  dipped  down  and  stopped  her 
mouth  with  his  own. 

"  It  ought  to  be  puuishable  by  law  for  human  beings  to 
arrogate  the  wisdom  that  belongs  only  unto  God,"  said 
Percy.  "  I  care  not  how  strong  a  mind  may  be,  such  pre- 
dictions are  poison  that  gets  into  the  bones,  and  makes  itself 
felt  under  some  circumstances  —  such  as  my  little  wife  was 
subjugated  by  !  "  and  Percy  Ormund's  spiritual  eyes  smiled 


BEAUTY.  373 

down  into  hers  with  a  tender  light  that  repaid  our  fair 
heroine  for  all  her  past  sufferings. 

"But  she  might  have  been  Mrs.  General  Ormund,  if  I 
had  not  refused  the  honor  for  a  reason,"  continued  Percy, 
opening  his  eyes  at  her  playfully,  with  a  most  innocent  ex- 
pression. 

"What  the  mischief  did  you  do  it  for? "  queried  Claude, 
with  face  full  of  wonder. 

"  After  the  battle  at  Winchester  I  said,  if  it  was  God's 
will  that  Horace  Stanhope  should  die  by  my  hand  as 
Colonel,  I  would  never  exchange  the  title  for  one  of  a  higher 
rank ;  and  I  never  will !  "  said  Percy,  in  a  tone  and  with  a 
face  that  left  no  doubt  of  his  determination. 

"  Well,  that  beats  me  ! "  exclaimed  Claude,  caressing  his 
moustache,  and  looking  at  the  Colonel  and  his  bride,  with 
eyes  brimming  with  satisfaction. 

"I'm  glad  you  did,"  said  Bertha,  softly. 

"  Why,  dear  ?  "  and  Percy  bent  over  the  soft  mouth  with 
tender  fondness. 

"  Because  I  met  you  first,  after  many  years,  bearing  that 
title ;  and  I  shall  always  love  it  best,  now  —  it  seems  a  part 
of  you,"  smiled  Bertha,  significantly. 

"  Yes,  by  George !  "  and  Claude  started  up  with  renewed 
animation.  "  Colonel  and  old  Broadbrim  are  one  and  insep- 
arable, '  you  know  ! '  I  said  she  'd  feel  better  when  Percy 
came  in  with  another  load  !  "  and  gay  Claude  turned  on  his 
heel  and  went  out  of  the  chamber,  with  shoulders  humped, 
and  holding  his  nose  ridiculously,  to  Percy's  great  amuse- 
ment. 

The  old  French  surgeon  was  called  in  to  examine  Percy's 
wound,  and  set  their  minds  at  rest  by  saying,  in  his  jovial 
way: 

"  No  dangair,  madame.  Get  well  eertainement,  moil  amie. 
Keep  cool,  monsieur  —  a-h ! " 


374  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

"  Bertha  the  Beauty  "  recovered  rapidly  after  the  "  men- 
tal reaction,"  and  introduced  her  husband  to  the  chaplain, 
not  long  after  their  happy  marriage,  as  "  Colonel  Ormund 
the  Brave." 

Mr.  Olney's  smile  was  sad  when  he  offered  his  congratu- 
lations to  the  happy  pair,  but  he  bore  his  disappointment 
bravely,  and  soon  left  their  vicinity  for  a  more  southern 
field  of  action. 

Colonel  Ormund  and  wife  went  North  during  the  summer, 
to  their  subsequent  regret,  as  it  furnished  them  with  proofs 
of  Yankee  bitterness  and  yearning  for  Southern  blood,  that 
was  highly  displeasing  to  Christian  minds.  Men  who  had 
not  shouldered  a  gun  in  defence  of  the  Union,  and  did  all 
their  fighting  with  their  tongues,  were  not  satisfied  that  the 
war  should  end  until  the  South  was  utterly  crushed  by  con- 
fiscation and  Northern  emigration,  and  every  Rebel  of  rank 
had  dangled  at  the  end  of  a  rope !  It  was  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent religion  from  their  own  and  President  Johnson's  gen- 
erous, manly  spirit,  that  hung  out  its  sign  in  New  England  ; 
and  our  hero  and  heroine  stood  aghast  at  the  strange  sight ! 

One,  bearing  the  sacred  title  of  Reverend,  said  to  Bertha, 
whose  brown  eyes  flashed  indignant  scorn  in  his  would-be  in- 
sulting face : 

"  Virginia  has  got  to  have  her  nose  put  to  the.grindstone, 
and  then  pay  for  the  turning ! "  * 

Bertha  subsequently  remarked  to  the  amused  Percy,  with 
a  spice  of  vindictiveness  irrepressibly  evoked : 

"  If  that  patriotic  preacher  had  his  nose  put  to  the  grind- 
stone, he  could  get  it  turned  for  him,  in  Virginia,  without 
pay/" 

Percy's  head  fell  back  against  the  chair,  and  his  blue 
eyes  laughed  away  her  wrath,  as  he  replied  cheerfully : 

"  'Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good.' 
*  Facts,  for  which  the  author  is  responsible. 


375 

These  men  think  they  are  the  Government,  but  the  Govern- 
ment don't  recognize  them.  My  trust  is  in  the  Lord  and 
Andrew  Johnson ! " 

Our  Colonel  and  wife  returned  to  Virginia  before  the 
summer  was  ended,  owing  to  the  offensiveness  of  the  spirit- 
ual atmosphere,  firmly  resolved  never  to  be  submerged  in 
such  an  uncongenial  element  again. 

"Colonel  Ormund  the  Brave,"  and  "Bertha  the  Beauty," 
his  God-given  wife,  were  henceforth  "  content  to  breathe 
their  native  air  on  their  own  ground." 


CHAPTER  LXI. 


MR.    REDMOND    "LETS   THE   CAT   OUT."  —  HOME   SWEET 
HOME,  THERE'S   NO   PLACE   LIKE   HOME. 

IT  was  September,  in  Edalia's  home.  "Walter  had  gone 
to  Tarboro',  and  Edalia  and  Minnie  were  impatiently 
awaiting  his  return. 

Tarboro'  was  the  nearest  post-office  to  their  home ;  one 
had  not  y^t  been  established  at  Williamsville,  and  the 
friends  hoped  to  hear  from  Bertha  on  Walter's  return. 
They  had  not  received  a  line  from  her  in  five  years. 

Walter  had  informed  them  of  her  engagement  to  Percy 
Ormund,  at  the  close  of  the  war.  Mr.  Redmond  sprang 
from  his  chair,  rubbing  his  hands  furiously,  with  flashing 
eyes. 

"  Ha  !  ha !  ha !     Good  !     I  thought  so,  by  Jupiter !  " 

"  You  thought  what  ?  "  queried  Minnie,  with  a  drawl. 

"  I  thought  the  Lord  would  bring  it  out  right.  They  've 
loved  each  other  twenty  years !     I  saw  it  when  he  boarded 


376  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

with  Belmont ;  but  he  did  n't,  the  blind  bat !  I  wish  I  'd 
managed  it  for  'em,  by  Jupiter!  but  I  wasn't  quite  sure; 
she  was  such  a  shy  thing.  If  Belmont  had  taken  him  back 
when  he  requested  it,  't  would  a  saved  her  a  world  of  suffer- 
ing —  poor  child !  But  I  reckon  it 's  all  right ;  the  Lord 
knows  what 's  best  for  us." 

"  Well,  well !  and  I  never  dreamed  it,  with  all  my  keen- 
ness !  "  laughed  Minnie.  "  But  no  wonder,  for  she  would  n't 
ever  talk  about  him,  and  seemed  as  cool  as  November  to- 
wards him,  at  that." 

"  The  very  best  proof  of  her  warmth,  by  Jupiter !  Girls 
who  show  fair  don't  feel  so  much,  after  all  — their  love  is 
only  on  the  surface ;  but  still  waters  run  deep.  '  Bertha  the 
Beauty'  was  n't  one  to  show  a  great  deal,  but  the  very  mis- 
chief to  hide,  by  Jupiter !  I  tried  to  draw  her  out  one  day, 
when  Percy  was  gone,  but  she  first  glowed  like  a  red-hot 
ember,  and  then  froze  as  hard  as  mid-winter.  I  let  her 
alone  after  that,  but  I  kept  a  deuce  of  a  thinking.  And  the 
belief  followed  me,  until  conviction  came,  with  the  confes- 
sion that  Ed  said  Bertha  had  made  just  before  her  marriage, 
without  betraying  the  name  of  the  object. 

"  Well,  Percy  is  a  lucky  fellow,  and  he  deserves  it  for  his 
twenty  years'  constancy.  I  reckon  she  looks  beautiful  now, 
if  she  is  thirty-four.  She  '11  be  handsome  at  sis,ty,  I  '11  bet 
two  chincapins,  by  Jupiter ! "  and  Mr.  Redmond  dropped 
down  upon  his  chair,  and  stretched  himself  out  at  full 
length,  with  a  grunt  of  intense  satisfaction. 

Mr.  Redmond's  home  presented  a  more  cheerful  aspect 
now  than  when  we  last  visited  it,  although  most  of  its  valu- 
ables had  gone  North  to  furnish  soldiers'  homes.  But  Eda- 
lia's  smiles  had  returned  with  Walter  safe  from  the  war,  and 
Minnie  was  merry  as  old,  since  Charles  was  wholly  restored. 
"Father  Eldon,"  "Uncle  Ned,"  and  the  children  rested 
from    daily   apprehensions    of  a   gunboat   at  "Redmond's 


377 

Landing,"  and  some  of  their  best  and  most  intelligent 
former  slaves  had  returned,  and  settled  down  in  their 
cabins  around  the  "'great  house,"  glad  to  find  themselves 
among  their  old  friends  once  more,  after  their  experience 
among  strangers. 

Dick  was  one  of  the  number,  and  cheered  his  old  master 
more  than  all  the  rest  of  returning  prodigals,  for  Dick  was 
Mr.  Redmond's  "  brag  boy "  from  babyhood.  Dick  was 
black  as  the  ace  of  spades,  and  his  white  eyes  and  teeth  ren- 
dered him  truly  interesting  as  a  portrait.  He  played  the 
banjo  and  danced  to  his  own  music,  and  was  never  afflicted 
with  the  blues. 

Aunt  Cora  and  Di  were  Dick's  mother  and  sister ;  and 
the  old  lady  shouted  in  real  Methodist  style  when  her  truant 
boy  came  "  home  from  the  war." 

Peter  Simpkins  was  returning  home  from  Williamsville, 
after  General  Lee's  surrender,  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  Dick, 
trudging  along  the  highway,  somewhat  in  advance.  Peter 
was  glad. 

"  Hello !    Dick,  is  that  you,  boy  ?  " 

Dick  turned  as  though  he  had  been  shot. 

"  Yes,  sah ;  dis  is  me,  sartin  shore.  How  d'  ye  do,  Mars 
Pete?"  said  Dick,  shaking  Peter's  left  hand  till  his  arm 
ached  with 'the  exercise.  "Dis  nigger's  gwine  home,  he  is. 
Been  'way  long  'nuff.  Got  'nuff  o'  strangers  an'  de  Norf, 
he  is.  sartin  shore !  Ding  if  I  ain't  glad  I'se  mose  dare 
now.  Mose  froze  las'  winter,  dis  nigger  did,  sartin  shore! 
Mose  broke  his  heart  longin'  for  de  warm  corner  in  de 
kitchen  at  ole  marster's!  Yes,  sah;  dis  nigger's  gwine 
home,  he  is,  sartin  shore,  Mars  Pete."  * 

Peter  took  Dick  up  in  his  gig,  and  put  him  down  at  Mr. 
Redmond's  gate. 

"  'Squire,  I  've  brought  your  boy  back,  free  of  charge. 

*  A  truth  well  attested. 
32* 


378         BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

First  time  you  've  had  a  foreign  visitor,  in  some  years,  with- 
out paying  dear  for  it! "  laughed  Peter,  as  he  drove  on. 

When  Dick  was  fairly  settled  in  his  old  home  again,  he 
lay  down  on  the  piazza-floor  and  rolled  with  delight,  with 
little  Ed  and  Charlie  tumbling  over  him,  in  high  glee. 

"Gosh!  "  said  Dick,  laughing  and  crying,, "ef  I  ain't  got 
'nuff  o'  some  folks,  an  trav'lin',  I  would  n't  say  so,  sartin 
shore!  —  dat's  me,  marster." 

"Well,  Dick,"  returned  Mr.  Redmond,  smiling  with 
satisfaction,  "there's  nothing  like  trying,  and  I'm  glad 
you  know  now,  from  experience,  who  are  your  'best 
friends.' " 

"  Dat  's  de  trufe,  sah.  I  nose  'em.  Can't  fool  dis  nigger 
no  more,  sartin  shore  !  Ain't  like  our  folks,  sah.  Pays  you 
all  in  perliteness,  an'  dat 's  what  we  niggers  can't  live  on  in 
war  times,  —  dat's  me!  Dey  ax  me  what  my  name  is,  an' 
I  say  'Dick  Redmond. '  Den  dey  say:  'Mr.  Redmond, 
please  to  black  my  boots ;'  an'  when  I  done  do  it  dey  say : 
'Well,  Mr.  Redmond,  I  s'pose  I  must  pay  you  ten  cent?' 
and  I  gits  it,  but  sometimes  it  won't  pass  no  furder,  —  done 
gone  and  give  me  counterfeit,  sah,  sartin  shore !  Den  South- 
ern gen'leman  come  'long  an'  ax  me  my  name,  an'  I  say 
1  Redmond,'  'cause  t'other  one  say  'Mister.'  Den  Southern 
gen'leman  ax  me  if  dat's  all  de  name  I  got,  an'  I  say  '  Dick, 
sah.'  Den  he  say :  '  Here,  Dick,  you  rascal,  black  my  boots.' 
An'  he  ax  me  how  I  gits  on,  an'  I  say,  'Poorly ;  wish  I  was 
back  wid  ole  marster  ;  an'  I 's  gwine,  too,  sartin  shore ! ' 
Den  when  I  done  '  black  'em  up,  an'  make  'em  shine,  like 
dandy  Jim  o'  Caroline,'  he  say:  'Here,  Dick,  is  a  dollar  for 
you  ;  now  don't  go  drink  it  up,  you  black  scamp!'  An'  I 
say,  '  No,  sah,  sartin  shore ! '  wid  a  heart  full  o'  glad,  sah. 
Oh,'  I  tell  you,  I  likes  Southern  folks  heap  de  most,  sah,  — 
dat's  me!"  said  Dick,  with  a  broad  grin. 

"  Well,  Dick,  I  'm  glad  you  're  back  again,  and  satisfied 


BEAUTY.  379 

with  }Tour  experience  among  Yankees.  I  '11  do  the  best  I 
can  for  you,  boy;  but  I  'm  a  poor  man  for  the  present,  Dick. 
Lost  all  my  property  that  could  be  carried  down  the  river, 
and  some  that  could  n't.  They  burnt  all  my  boats,  and  left 
me  without  one  to  cross  the  Roanoke  in." 

"  Lordy  massy,  marster !  "  said  Dick,  with  white  eyes 
rolling. 

"  Yes,  Dick,  they  piled  'em  up,  and  set  fire  to  the  heap, 
and  then  left  the  Landing.  Jared  (the  boatman)  extin- 
guished the  flames  when  he  fancied  himself  secure  from  ob- 
servation ;  but  pretty  soon  the  gunboat  was  observed  steam- 
ing back  again. 

"'D your  Rebel  soul!  '  shouted  the  officer  in  com- 
mand ;  *  I  '11  blow  your  infernal  brains  eout  if  yeou  don't  put 
them  things  together  agin,  and  set  'em  a-fire,  yeou  secesh 
devil!.' 

"And  Jared,  poor  fellow  !  was  forced  to  obey,  with  a  pistol 
pointed  at  his  head,  and  see  the  work  of  his  hands  reduced 
to  ashes,  just  because  it  was  the  property  of  a  Southerner, 
and  would  be  of  some  service  to  him,  though  no  damage  to 
the  Federal  Government."  * 

Dick  shut  his  eyes  and  heaved  a  groaning  sigh,  with  an 
irritable  kick  of  one  foot  against  the  piazza  rail. 

"  Well,  sah,  dat  's  de  way  dey  done  do  everywhar  I  been 
wid  'em,  sartin  shore  !  Up  dare  at  Elexandry,  sah,  dey  done 
clean  our  Southern  folks  out,  and  planners  and  sich  did  n't 
stand  no  chance.  They  tote  'em  through  de  dark,  and  hide 
'em  'way  till  dey  could  git  a  chance  ter  send  'em  up  Norf. 
I  seed  it,  sah,  and  it  make  me  bile,  sartin  shore !  Out  dare 
at  de  Fairfax  Seminary,  whar  dey  used  to  make  preachers 
'fore  de  war,  one  woman,  from  New  Jarsey,  who  was  nussin' 
de  Yankeys  'cause  she  was  so  good,  done  stole  every  thing, 

*  A  fact  known  to  the  author. 


380  BERTHA,  THE  BEAUTY. 

sah,  she  could  lay  her  hands  on,  and  sont  it  up  home,  sartin 
shore !  * 

"  I  reckon,  sah,  dey  '11  have  some  big  auctions  up  Norf 
'fore  long,  'less  dey  did  n't  have  nuthin  in  dare  houses  'fore 
de  war,  and  needs  what  dey  stole  from  our  folks!"  said  in- 
dignant Dick,  looking  up  at  Mr.  Redmond  with  a  scowl. 

"Well,  Dick,  I'm  grateful  for  what  I 've  got  left,  that 
could  n't  be  burned,  nor  carried  down  the  river.  I  reckon 
we  '11  get  along  and  make  enough  to  live  on ;  and  the  Lord 
will  reward  the  evil-doers.  You  're  free  now,  Dick,  and 
I  'm  not  your  master  any  longer ;  but  I  shall  not  care  any 
the  less  for  your  welfare.  I  shall  need  hands  to  work  my 
plantation  and  low  grounds,  as  in  other  years,  and  I  'd  rather 
hire  my  old  servants  than  strangers.  We  '11  stick  together, 
and  help  each  other,  won't  we,  Dick  ?  " 

"Dat's  de  trufe,  sah!  I  ain't  gwine  Vay  from  ye  no 
more,  marster,  sartin  shore!  Got  'miff  of  'em,  I  is  —  ain't 
like  our  folks  —  no  sah  !  Dey  don't  keer  nuthin  fur  nig- 
gers when  dey  gits  'em  'way  from  dare  homes  —  I  knows 
'em  good !  Oh  !  I  tell  you,  sah,  I  likes  our  Southern  folks 
heap  de  mose  —  dat's  me!"  and  Dick  gave  a  congratula- 
tory roll  and  chuckle  for  being  safe  at  home  again. 

As  the  evening  wore  away,  Walter  Eldon  was  observed, 
through  the  twilight,  galloping  down  the  broad,  white  road. 
He  took  his  hat  off,  and  flourished  it  around  his  head,  when  he 
caught  sight  of  Edalia  and  Minnie,  watching  for  his  coming. 

They  were  at  the  gate  in  a  twinkling. 

"  Good  news !  "  cried  Walter,  holding  up  a  letter.  "  '  Col- 
onel Ormund  the  Brave'  and  'Bertha  the  Beauty'  were 
married  last  May,  and  will  be  here  in  two  weeks  (Deo  vo- 
lente)  to  see  the  old  friends  and  scenes.  Hurrah  for  the 
Union!"  shouted  Walter,  tossing  the  letter  over  the  gate, 
with  his  face  all  aglow. 

*  True  incidents  of  the  war  that  can  be  proven. 


BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY.  381 

"I  say  so,  too,  by  Jupiter! "  sang  out  Mr.  Kedmond,  rub- 
bing his  hands  with  exultation,  as  he  stood  upon  the  piazza- 
steps.  "I  said  some  folks  would  swim  ashore  from  the 
foundered  ship,  and  I  reckon  the  Colonel  and  his  wife  won't 
grieve  much  over  its  loss  ;  for  the  war  brought  them  together 
for  all  time. " 

"  Then  you  meant  them,  when  you  said  it  nine  months 
ago?"  queried  Minnie,  with  wide  eyes. 

"Blest  if  I  didn't!  "  returned  the  old  man,  with  snap- 
ping orbs. 

"  Oh,  lordy,  honey !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Cora,  half  crying 
over  the  good  news.  "  I  thought  I  'd  never  see  Miss  Bert 
agin  in  dis  worl,  chile ;  but  I  reckon  I  will  now,  honey.  I 
ain't  been  so  glad  sense  you  was  married,  and  Dick  come 
back  ;  dat  's  de  blessed  trufe,  chile !  " 

And  the  faithful  old  Christian  caught  up  her  short-stem 
pipe,  and  filled  the  kitchen  with  a  fog,  in  her  glad  excite- 
ment. 

Two  weeks  later,  Colonel  Ormund  and  wife  sat  at  Mr. 
Redmond's  tea-table,  refreshing  themselves  after  their  jour- 
ney with  Aunt  Cora's  excellent  supper,  in  honor  of  their 
arrival. 

"  Don't  look,  now,  as  though  you  'd  lost  something  and 
could  n't  find  it !  "  said  Mr.  Eedmond,  gazing  admiringly  at 
our  heroine's  radiant  face,  with  a  significant  smile. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  found  it  last  May,  after  looking  for  it  in  vain 
twenty  long  years,"  responded  Bertha,  raising  her  bright 
brown  eyes  to  Percy's  loving  glance. 

"And  Uncle  Ned  suspected  you  then,  and  never  let  the 
cat  out  till  after  the  war  !  "  said  Minnie,  with  a  pout.  "  If 
J'd  had  a  hint  of  the  truth,  I  would  have  managed  it  for 
you  twenty  years  ago,  I  '11  warrant !  "  she  added,  with  an 
intelligent  shake  of  her  wise  little  head. 

"Should  n't  wonder  if  news  could  fix  it ;  for  'twould  'a'  gone 


382  BERTHA,   THE    BEAUTY. 

from  Dan  to  Beersheba  in  a  day,  by  Jupiter !  "  laughed  Mr. 
Redmond,  gulping  down  his  third  cup  of  hot  coffee. 

"  Don't  go  back  to  Virginia !  "  pleaded  Edalia  ;  "  we  've 
been  separated  long  enough.  Settle  down  in  the  '  Old  North 
State,  God  bless  her'!" 

"  That  is  our  purpose,"  said  Percy,  looking  very  much 
pleased.  "Father  Belmont  has  authorized  me  to  re-pur- 
chase the  place  where  his  children  were  born  ;  and  as  you 
are  soon  to  have  a  railroad  from*  Williamsville  to  Tarboro', 
it  will  bring  us  together  in  an  hour's  ride." 

Glad  cries  and  clapping  of  hands  went  up  from  the  list- 
eners. 

"Mother  Belmont,"  continued  Percy,  smiling  down  upon 
Bertha,  "is  homesick,  and  Claude  thinks  there's  noplace 
like  Carolina.  My  wife  has  no  preference  for  a  foreign 
population  (putting  one  finger  on  his  lip,  significantly),  and 
I  favor  the  move,"  added  Percy,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"  Good  !  by  Jupiter !  blest  if  it  ain't !  Three  cheers  for 
the  Union  !  "  cried  Uncle  Ned,  laying  himself  back  with  a 
merry  laugh  that  was  echoed  by  all  parties,  including  Aunt 
Cora  and  Di ;  and  Dick  lay  down  in  his  "  warm  corner " 
and  rolled,  when  the  news  was  carried  out. 

Dora  was  early  at  Mr.  Redmond's  next  day,  and  Colonel 
AVilmer  and  Peter  came  in  before  the  close,  with  Dr.  Mont- 
rose and  family,  making  a  happy  reunion  of  friends  of  long 
gone  years. 

They  all  went  over  to  the  old  homestead  that  eve,  where, 
twenty  years  ago,  our  hero  and  heroine  had  first  met  in 
life's  sunny  morn ;  and  here  we  now  leave  them,  in  the  low 
brown  house  with  the  long  piazza. 


THE   END. 


■ 

I 

,   'l 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


•  ■ 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 


^V. 


Wilmer 
1150 


■ 


■ 


-*•»''• 


■i 


*m 


